He Ain't Heavy
by Phaze
Summary: The entire Pryor family is turned on its ear when Jack’s long lost brother returns to town looking to rebuild old connections, and his arrival may destroy all of their American Dreams. ***Completed***
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer

Okay folks, I don't own them but I am borrowing the Pryor clan and their friends from Dick Clark and the NBC people.  No harm and malice is intended nor will any come to them.  

This story has not been proof read, so I apologize for any possible spelling, grammar or the wrong usages of any word.  Please read and enjoy, and I look forward to your comments.  All I ask is that you be polite and not drag me too hard over the coals.

Thank you for reading my first posted non-Smallville fiction.  I hope you will enjoy my interpretation of American Dreams.

Summary

   The entire Pryor family is turned on its ear when Jack's long lost brother returns to town looking to rebuild old connections, and his arrival may destroy all of their American Dreams.

He Ain't Heavy…   Chapter One 

   The morning sun rose over Philadelphia like any other day in the early spring of nineteen hundred and sixty four.  The constant rain of the last three days had finally let up, and the bright yellow orb was allowed to shine over the awakening metropolis if only for a few short hours on the warming day.

   The Pryor home, a modest house on the east side of the city was frantic with the early morning rush of a mother with only one cup of coffee in her system, trying to get her four children off to school on time.  The lovely blond woman stood at the kitchen counter spreading mayonnaise over what seemed to be a sea of bread slices before her as a butcher paper wrapped pound of bologna sat to the side near a roll of tin foil waiting to wrap each tasty sandwich before she stuffed them into four individual small brown paper bags along with a slice of left over chocolate cake from the supper before and the preferred fruit of either an orange, apple or banana chosen earlier by each child.  Her mind was already in a state of dizziness knowing that once the kids were prepared, that she would have to ready herself for her own day at school, that she hardly heard the frantic yell from her eldest son one floor above as he stood near the top edge of the stairwell.

   "Mom!" The strikingly handsome seventeen years old yelled.  "Did you wash my gym uniform like I asked, last night?  I need it for practice today."

   The blond elder woman made no response as she placed a thick piece of the select meat over half of the laid out slivers of bread before her.  Had the kitchen not been a whirlwind of activity by her three remaining children, she may have heard the plea from the son referred to by the family and friends as JJ.

   "Let go," the third child and second daughter of the family demanded as she held firm to the bottle of sticky maple syrup attempting to pry it loose from her younger brother's vice like grip.

   "I'm not finish with it," the young boy insisted as he looked down at the two pancakes that sat on his large plate that were smattered with the oozing substance.

   "You are so," the bigger child with the name of Patty returned with a scowl.  "You already have too much syrup and you can't even see the pancakes anymore."

   "Nah-ah," he protested pointing to a small sliver of the pastry that was still expose to warm air of the room.  "I missed a spot."

   "You don't need anymore, Will," she made one last tug of the bottle forcing a release from the grip of his small hands.

   "Mom," Will's head turned sharply a full one hundred and eighty degrees to spot his mother who was standing with her gaze in the opposite direction behind his chair.  "Patty won't let me have the syrup," his small voice shrilled through the room.

   "Patty, let Will have the syrup," Helen, the mother, said with a sigh placing a final piece of bread over the last sandwich.

   "But he already has enough," Patty insisted scrounging her nose at him while she poured a modest amount over her own short stack.  "Sister Martin said that people who eat too much sugar are more likely to have problems with their own blood sugar when they get older."

   "Nah-ah," Will protested again.  "JJ eats lots of sugar and he fine enough to play football."

   "JJ is too young to be sick," Patty shot back with one hand on her hip as she placed the bottle down on the table just out of Will's reach.  "You have to be real old to get sugar sickness," the ponytail on the back of her head bobbed as she spoke.  "Like Mom's age or something."

   "Thank you very much, Patty," Helen gave her a cursed look, as she turned to them and reached across the table for the bottle.  "It might interest you to know that I was in perfect health at my last check up."

   "Mom!" JJ voice called through the hall off from the kitchen again.

Helen held the bottle of the brown substance over the exposed section of Will's pancake and deposited a small drop no larger than the head of a thumb tack to nude pie as she called back.  "What is it JJ?  You better hurry before you are late for school."

   A frustrated JJ stood in the doorframe wearing his best school uniform and letterman jacket.  "Have you seen my track uniform?" He asked with his arms wide spread.  His light brown hair had already been combed back in its perfect JJ Pryor look and his remarkably handsome face was frown with worry.  "I thought I asked you to wash it last night."

   "And I did," Helen shot him a creased brow.  "I just wish you kids would stop thinking of me as an all night dry cleaners.  I washed and ironed it like you asked."

   "Well where is it?" His tone was still frustrated, but he tried to temper himself while speaking to his mother.

   "I put it on top of your dresser by the window where I thought sure you would see it first thing this morning," she explained.

   JJ gave a heavy sigh and slumped his shoulders as he looked exasperate at her.  "Great, that's the only place I didn't look."  He turned sharply picking his gym bag off the chair in the hall where he had dropped it.

   "Have some breakfast first," Helen called out as he walked away.

   "No time," JJ answered back passing his sister Meg, talking on the phone in the foyer.  "I have to meet the guys to go over some scrimmages we were planning on trying out after class today."

   "Shush," his beautiful blond younger sister warned as he passed on his way to the staircase.

   "Get real little sister," he gave a look of disgust.  "Tell Roxanne what ever she has to tell you can wait the next five minutes until you meet her at the bus stop."

   "For your information," He snapped back as he began his climb.  "It's not Roxanne, it's Jenny asking about a homework assignment she missed."

   JJ rolled his eyes giving no response as he continued his journey up the flight of stares.

   Once he was out of earshot, Meg removed her hand from over the mouthpiece and called softly to her friend.  "Okay, he's gone.  Now what were we talking about, Roxanne?"

   Patty was the next to travel up the hall past her sister as she collected her book bag and coat.

   "Meg," Helen stuck her head into the hall from the kitchen.  "You need to eat something before you leave for school.  Will you please hang up and tell Roxanne you will talk to her later."

   With a sigh of disappointment, Meg tossed her free hand in the air.  "Roxanne, I have to go.  We can talk on the bus, but I am telling you, if you slit the side of your school uniform skirt one fraction of an inch higher, then sister Mary will have you expelled like she said she would."

   The ringing of the doorbell interrupted the hubbub of the morning.  Both Meg and Patty stopped mid point in what they were doing and took a long look at each other.  The mornings in the Pryor house had always been hectic, but they were usually routine, and hardly ever deferred from the norm.  A visitor other than one of the children's friends or their uncle Pete was hardly ever a beginning to the day.

   "I'll get it," Patty yelled waking from her surprise at the sound.  Even when a friend or family member would show up in the morning, they were hardly ever with out being expected.

   Meg turned away to finish her conversation with Roxanne as Patty slipped on her coat and walked towards the door.  She reached for the knob and pulled the partition open to reveal a good-looking man in his mid thirties smiling back at her.  He was about JJ's height and wore long brown wool over coat that partially covered the braces that seemed wrapped around his legs.

   "Hello," Patty tried to make her words sound polite, but her face still held a puzzled stare.  "Can I help you?"

   "Meg," the stranger stifled a smile as he eyed the young girl.  "Are you Meg Pryor?"

   "No," Patty scoffed.  "And I am happy about that every day of my life."

   "I'm Meg," Meg stepped in behind her sister.  "Do I know you?"

   "You use to," he grinned nervously.  "But maybe I should let your father tell you about it.  Is he home?"

   "He's at work," Patty blurted out much to Meg's discomfort of letting the stranger know that he was not near by incase a quick rescue was needed.

   "But he's not very far," Meg interjected trying to keep a wall of defense around themselves.

   "Oh," The sandy brown haired man let his head lower slightly in disappointment.

The tense second of silence was broken by Helen's voice at the opposite end of the hall as she held a clean plate and a dishcloth in her hands.  "Richie?"

   Her call of his name got his attention as his head perked up with a large toothy smile.  "Helen," he said in recognition.

   Helen made her way up the hall slowly, never once removing her eyes from this man as Meg and Patty stepped back to reveal a full view.  Her face was a jumble of emotions from shock and surprise to a confused joy of seeing the stranger.

   "Oh Richie," Helen shoved the plate and towel into Meg's hands as she rushed into a happy hug with him.  The two of them wrapped their arms around each other for a good long minute as the girls gave each other a choice glance.

   "Dear God," Helen pulled away covering her mouth, still in a slight state of shock.

   "I told you on the phone a few weeks back that I would be coming," he said with a small tear trickling from his eye.  "I wanted to see you, Jack and the kids again."

   "But I never thought you would actually show up again after all this time," Helen gasped with tears in her own eyes.

   Richie let his head droop again.  "I know," he sighed.  "I should have made the effort a long time ago."

   JJ had made his way half way down the steps when he surveyed the group before the door.  He stopped and saw that his mother was beside herself with emotions.  "What's going on?"  The young sports jock took on a defensive pose.

   His mother looked up at him and then moved her eyes slowly to the open door again.  JJ followed her gaze and saw what she was seeing.  He felt his legs stiffing as if he were about to hit a brick wall and he slightly lost his breath taking sight of their guest.

   "Uncle Richie," he said softly under his breath grasping tightly the banister.

   The sight of his young nephew almost fully grown overcame Richie as the tears began to flow freely.  He took a step into the door and looked up at him.  "Jackie?"

   JJ seemed to regain his composure and pushed himself away from the railing and rushed the down steps into his uncle's waiting arm.  "Uncle Richie," he cried into the elder man's coat.  "Oh my God, you're back."

   The realization finally hit Meg as she watched the two men.  "Oh my," she gasped lightly.  "Uncle Richie."

   Patty looked over at her mother who was enjoying the small reunion.  Her young face was filled with confusion and shock.  She was about to voice a question when Will hobbled out from behind his mother and said, "Who's Uncle Richie and why does he have braces like mine?"

   Richie Pryor pulled away from JJ wiping his eyes and looked down at the young nephew he had never met before.  He leaned forward and held out his gloved hand.     "Hello," he smiled sweetly.

   "Will," Helen nudged him forward before her.  "I would like you to meet someone."

   Will turned his head upwards to her.

   "This," Helen gestured with her right hand toward Richie.  "This you're your Uncle Richie.  He's your Daddy's other brother."

   Dropping his head to meet Richie gaze, Will wiped a hand across his lips as if he were putting in the smile that politely crossed them just after.  He held out his right hand and took a slight grasp of his uncle's hand.  "Hello," he said softly.  "It's very nice to meet you."

   The bus stop at the corner was still a cold place to stand even as the morning sun was beginning to claim the day.  JJ Pryor wished that he had accepted his friend's offer for a ride into school on that morning since Jack Pryor who usually drove them left early for work, but he decided it were perhaps best to stay with his brother and sisters to field any questions they might have about the mornings events.  He knew very little about their Uncle Richie after his disappearance, but unlike the rest of them, he had at least a memory of who this man was in their lives.

   "How old were we?" Meg asked randomly as she shook in the morning cold.

   "I don't know," JJ Sniffled.  "I think I was just turning six and you were about three."

   "Why did he leave?" Patty turned from her watchful eye on the street.

   "I don't know that either," JJ replied rubbing his hands against his body inside his coat pocket.  "All I remember is Uncle Richie would come over at least three times a week, especially after church on Sundays, and he would spend hours playing games and talking with me and Meg."

   "How come I don't remember him?" Patty asked with a puzzled look.

   "Because you were a baby," Meg told her trying to help JJ.  "If you were even born at all yet."

   "Where has he been?" Will had the next question.  "Why haven't I met him before?"

   "Uncle Richie," JJ leaned over his little brother to speak.  "He left about twelve years ago and just dropped out of sight.  As far as I know, no one has heard from him since.  Not even Dad or Uncle Pete."

   "That's so strange," Meg added in as her eyes drifted in thought.  "Why would someone just disappear like that and not try to stay in touch with their own family?  I mean who had what to hide?"

   "I don't know," a sad look over took JJ's face.  "All I can remember is the last night anyone had seen him.  He came to the house to talk to Mom and Dad.  I didn't realize it at the time, but he was really upset about something and I think he said he had just come back from Grand Dad's place."

   "Do you remember what they talked about?" Meg asked as Patty and Will turned to listen.

   "No," JJ shrugged.  "I was still young, and Mom sent me off to bed.  She said she would come and tuck me in, but I don't think she did that night."  His mind wandered back to the best his young mind could remember of that time.  "I know there was allot of yelling after a while.  I think it may have even woken me at one point.  Then it all ended with the loud slamming of the house door and then a car door and a racing engine."

   "That must have been Uncle Richie storming away," Meg said under her breath.

   "Well where did he go?" Patty questioned with an annoyed sigh.

   JJ looked up again into the moving traffic before them.  "I don't know," he replied.  "All I remember is Dad said he wouldn't be coming by the house anymore, and that I should not try and see him on my own."

   They all stood silent for a few minutes as the people and cars rushed by.

   "Why didn't you do something?" Will finally said looking up at his brother.  "You should have gone after him."

   "I would have, if I could," a great welt of pain seemed to come to JJ's eyes.  "Uncle Richie was my best friend when I was a kid.  I remember crying for days after he left.  First in front of Dad and Mom to maybe guilt them into letting me see him, and then I would just go off into my room and cry alone."

   Meg took the chance and looped her right arm through JJ's left arm that was hanging from his pocket.

   "It must have been at least three years before I stopped asking about him," JJ sniffed again, only this time it was unclear if his runny nose was from the cold air his emotions.  "But I think even as a kid I could sense that I was hurting Dad just to ask him the question.  So eventually I gave up and just pushed Uncle Richie to the back of my memories and I haven't given him much thought again until now."

   The heaviness of the moment was lifted as they heard a friend's voice calling out to them.  "Hey guys!"

   They all looked up and saw Meg's raven haired best friend Roxanne with the pretty face and shapely form approaching.

   JJ could not control himself and turned away with a snicker.  The three older Pryor children were all taken aback with her appearance.  She was wearing the usual East Catholic High School uniform, but the pleaded skirt had been slit on one side six inches higher than the standard for the school's dress code.

   "Oh my God, Roxanne," Meg tried to stifle a giggle.  "You are going to be in so much trouble from Sister Mary Margaret.  She is diffidently going to expel your."

   "Don't be silly," Roxanne tried to pass off her friend's fear with a wave of her hand.            "Slit skirts are the latest style.  Didn't you see what those girls in last months Teen Scene?"

   "You aren't one of those go-go dancers," JJ could not stifle his snickers any longer.  "I don't think even Dick Clark would ever let you wear a dress that revealing on American Bandstand."

   "It's the new fashion," Roxanne placed her defiant hands on her hips.  "People will come around."

   "But I don't think sister Mary Margaret will," Patty spoke up.  "You look like one on the painted ladies down on Main Street that they always warn us about."

   Will, who had been staring at her bear thigh exposed through the slit of the skirt finally looked up to Roxanne's delighted smile at his special notice of her.  "Aren't your legs cold?" he asked as the other three broke out with laughter.  The other students who stood near by waiting for the bus also joined in.  All of which only helped to turn Roxanne's face a bright red color.

   The laughter and snickers continued until the bus pulled up and carried them all away.  The middle-aged driver did not hide his stare at Roxanne as she made her way down the aisle.  When Meg saw that his eyes were following her friend's legs, her snickers were met by Roxanne's raised eyes brows that told her 'I told you so.'

   Richie Pryor sat at the Pryor family kitchen table waiting with nervous hands tapping silently against the Formica top.  His sister-in-law Helen had excused herself after cleaning the table and went to make a phone call in the hall.  The water was heating on the stove and she promised to return shortly.

   After a few anxious minutes, she returned to the room and attended the boiling pot.

   "I'm sorry about that," she said turning off the stove and removing the pot from the burner.  "I had to call the school and leave my professor a message that I would be late.  Then I tried Jack at the store, but he wasn't there."

   "You go to school?" Richie asked turning to her with a smile.

   "Oh, yeah," Helen replied placing the pot on the table before him.  She continued as she went to retrieve two cups and saucers from the cabinet.  "It's just a literature class for now, but I'm thinking about taking a few more in the fall semester."

   "That's great, Helen," Richie smiled.  "I never thought I would see the day when Jack didn't raise the roof about his wife leaving the kitchen and educating herself."

   "A lot of things have changed since you were last here, Richie," she said returning a final time with the sugar and cream severs.  "Jack has really eased up on some things in his old age."

   Richie grinned at her little joke as his sight drifted to the tabletop.  "How is Jack these days?" he asked softly.  "How is my brother fearing in this world he has carved out for himself?"

   "Very well," She poured him a cup.  "There was a small health scare a few months ago and then the disappointment of JJ not getting a scholarship to Notre Dame, but Jack is doing fine, all things considered and even working on opening a second store."

   "That sounds promising, and Jackie plays football?" He asked eying his cup.

   "Yes," she replied with a proud smile.  "JJ is like Jack in so many ways, and football is one of their shared interest."

   He took the cup and swirled the brown liquid around for a few minutes.  "Did you tell him I called?"

   Helen was reluctant to answer, but she did.  "No," her words were short.  "I tried, but I couldn't."

   Raising his head, Richie's gaze met hers.  "Is he still that mad at me?  Does my brother still hate me?"

   "I," she was hesitant and chose her words carefully.  "I don't think hate would be the right word.  I think Jack feels more disappointed and hurt than anything else."

   Richie ran a hand over his mouth.  It struck Helen how he had very few similar facial and body traits with the other Pryor men.  He lacked the dark hair and instead wore a closely cut full main of sandy brown locks with a few hints of gray.  His face also lacked the square jaw and was more rounded but far from heavy set.  He looked a good ten years younger than his actual age and he spoke with a careful words.  "I never meant to hurt anyone, Helen.  I just had to do what I felt was right."

   "I know," she nodded slightly.  "I tried to get Jack to understand that.  I honestly did, but he just shut himself off from any mention or conversation about you."

   With a sunken head, Richie studied his coffee again.  "I never meant to hurt him.  Jack was the last person in the world I ever wanted to upset with my decisions.  When I made the choices I did, I always knew that it would not sit well with my folks, but I wanted Jack to understand why I had to do what I did.  I needed him to understand and he didn't."

   Helen placed a hand over his.  "Neither of you ever gave the other a chance to understand or to work it out.  He put up a wall between you, and you walked away without a fight."

   His eyes drifted up to hers.  "I had to, Helen.  After the fight we had in the living room that night, I knew I could not stay around here and live with his rejection of me.  My God, Helen," he gasped back a breath.  "You know how we grew up together.  Jack was always more than my big brother.  He was my saving grace, my hero, and the only reason I wanted to even wake up some mornings.  But then to have him just turn and shut me out like that, it was so much more than I could bear and I knew if I stayed around, I would only hurt each of us more by trying to win back his approval."

   "I remember the stories," Helen studied her own cup.  "Jack had always agonized that you were the one who had to go through all the suffering.  He always thought that if he had been the one born with the weaken immune system, then he may have been able to live with it a little easier than you, and you would not have had to feel like you had to earn the affections of your parents."

   "They were good people and meant well," Richie nodded.  "I was never mistreated, but they didn't know how to deal with a child with my special needs and they just ignored me as much as possible. I could see the disappointment in their eyes every time they had to look at me.  I heard them talking a few times that they should have listen to the doctor and should have been careful not to get pregnant after she had gotten so sick with the births of Ted and Jack because her body was not strong enough to carry me to full term."

   "They were very strict and proud Catholics," Helen smiled slightly.  "They would not go against the church stand against birth control, but they also had no idea that the results would be so harmful for you."

   "We all did the best we could," he forced a grin.  "Mom and Dad were just not very good at hiding their disappointment in what they felt they had done to me."

   "Jack was great, though," a genuine smile crossed his lips.  "Ted was always cold and distant, the promise child, and Pete was still a few years off, but Jack took me under his wing like no other brother ever could.  He wanted me to have as full and rich of a life as possible.  Even when I had dreams of becoming a football player or winning the play offs, Jack took those dreams as his own. He fore filled them for himself and allowed me to share in that glory.  He was my closes friend and hero all wrapped up in one great person."

   Helen nodded knowingly for a few seconds.  "I remember Jack telling me how much he enjoyed watching you revel in his victories, but I don't think it truly hit me of how much of an impact it had made on Jack's life until Will became sick and almost died with the polio."

   "Polio?" he repeated.  "Is that why he wears the brace?"

   "Yes," she sighed her reply.  "I mean Jack and I were always happy that God allowed us to keep our son, but the ravages that the decease took on Will's tiny body and the implications of what it would mean for his future almost destroyed Jack.  It was the only time that I remember him allowing your name to be brought up in his presence again.  He prayed that Will would not have to go through all the pains of being an out cast like you had to endure, but at the same time he struggled with trying to brace himself for a future that was as demanding as his past."

   "Jack was my saving grace.  Are Jackie and Will, close?"

   "JJ is the best older brother any boy in Will's condition could ever want," Helen's prideful Mother's smile beamed.  "Even with such a large difference in age, JJ has always had a shared closeness with Will that he has never display with anyone else."

   "Then that will get Will through allot," Richie shook her hand that was one his.  "I am a firm believer in a family's love helping to conquered all."

   Helen pulled her hand away with a slight blush.  "We have a good family, Richie," she assured him. "Our kids may not always get along, but they are great kids."

   "I truly hope I get to know them someday," Richie took his first sip of the coffee.

   Cocking an eyebrow, Helen drank from her own cup with a smirk.  "Then why don't you start tonight at dinner."

   The invitation startled her brother in law.  "What?"

   "Yeah sure," she thought out loud.  "Jack won't be at the store for most of the day because he's out submitting bids to the new hotel they are building on First Ave, so the first chance you may have to meet up with him would be here again at dinner."

   "Are," he stumbled on his words.  "Are you sure?"

   "Yes I am," she nodded defiantly.  "Jack may not be so happy that we pulled a surprise like this, but I am sure that deep down he will be delighted to see his little brother again.  Maybe I'll ask Pete over too."

   "That would be great," Richie smiled.  "I've missed my baby brother Pete, but I have never had the nerve to call him and get his take on everything that had happen.  Maybe he could help me calm Jack down when we see each other."

   "Then it's set," Helen took another sip.  "Be here around six thirty."

   "I will," Richie agreed as he struggled with his braces to get up again.  "I guess I should get going for now and let you get on with your life before it all comes crashing down on you tonight."

   Helen stood up with a giggle and helped him to his feet.  "Don't you worry about it.  I've learned how to handle my husband in the last twelve years you been gone.  He'll come around."

   Once they had made it to the front door, Helen helped him put his coat back on as he struggled to get the leg braces just right.  She watched for a few seconds and then asked,    "Richie, when did you get the braces?  I don't remember you ever needing them before."

   "I didn't," he turned to her pulling out his gloves.  "I was actually very healthy the past few years.  It seemed I had finally out grown most of my childhood deceases and even the few adult ones I had picked up along the way."

   "Then why the braces?"

   "I was in a real bad car accident about a year ago," he said with low tone that seemed to chance his whole mood.  "I had broken my back, and the doctors doubted that I would ever be able to walk again."  He placed his gloves over his hands and then smiled up at her.  "But I proved them wrong."

   Helen hugged her brother in law one final time and he left promising to return that night for the family meal.  She closed the door behind him and leaned against it with a heavy breath.  "Helen Pryor," she sighed out loud.  "What have you gotten yourself into?"

   The morning sun had given way to afternoon cloud cover as Pete Pryor, the youngest of the four Pryor sons, and a uniformed police officer, made his way into the appliance store that Jack Pryor owned.  He quickly surveyed the room of mostly televisions and entertainment needs.  Off in the corner, he saw his brother's assistant, Henry Walker finishing up with a small older woman who was making a 'time payment' on her year old TV.  Once the transaction was done, Pete rushed over to the counter.

   "Hey Mister Pete," Henry greeted him with a big smile placing the customer card back in the file draw.  "What brings you all the way cross town in the middle of the day?'

   "Hi Henry," Pete still scanned the room.  "I'm looking for my brother.  Is he here?"

   "No sir," Henry shook his head.  "But I expect him back any minute now.  He said he was going to lunch with one of those big wigs from the hotel chain, and then he planned to come right back here."

   "Good," Pete tapped his hands nervously on the counter.  "I really need to speak with him."

   Henry could see that Pete seemed ready to jump out of his own skin.  "Is there anything I could help you with, Mister Pete?"

   "No Henry," Pete said cocking his head to look out the front window.  "I just need to tell my big brother something."

   "Alright," Henry sighed.  "But if I were you, I would try and find a way to calm down a little.  You look close to spooking yourself."

   Pete looked up at the taller man.  Henry was an African American who stood a full six inches taller than Pete's modest frame and was a good fifty pounds heavier.  While not a small man him self, Pete seem vastly tiny against the larger man.

   Dawning the dark hair and squared jaw of the Pryor clan, Pete was a very handsome young man in his late twenties and made for a striking picture when he was wearing his Philadelphia police uniform.  He was known as a ladies man, and Pete reveled in his player status.

   "May I make a suggestion," Henry asked smiling down at Pete.  "You seem very tense today, Mister Pete.  You need to find a way to unwind a little."

   Pete spun his head to the window and then again to Henry with a fast swift motion.    "What are you thinking, Henry?  Should I go to that massage parlor we busted on Fulton Street last week and get myself the full treatment?"

   "Actually," Henry gave a hearty laugh.  "I was thinking more on the line of setting yourself down in front of one of these televisions we got here, and try to relax watching some of these afternoon shows my wife keeps trying to tell me about."  He rubbed the back of his neck with his large hand.  "She calls them soap opera serials, but I think they are just a big waste of a person's time."

   "We have a few of the guys wives down at the station who watch those shows," Pete smiled for the first time since entering the room.  "If the truth were known, I would even say that some of the guys have watched a few on their days off."

   "Wouldn't that be the God awful truth," Henry chuckled.  "But my wife swears by her Secret Storm serial.  She says she and the misses from her work sit down and watch that show every afternoon."

   Pete turned and saw someone walking past the first window.  "I'd like to take your advice, Henry," he said looking at the figure approaching the door.  "But I don't think I will be needing it.  Here comes my big brother right now."

   Jack Pryor stood a slight bit taller than Pete but had the same similar dark features with the squared jaw line and remarkably handsome face.  His only true difference from any of his brothers was a slightly thinning hairline and a few crow's feet wrinkles around the eyes when he smiled or grimaced.

   Not aware of the impatient brother who waiting for him inside, Jack made his way into the shop slowly while sipping coffee from a heavy paper cup reading the remainder of the morning newspaper he was force to set aside in order to make his meeting.      His small attaché' case sat nuzzled under his lower arm and his open over coat waved softly in the cool breeze as he made his way into the store.

   The bell over the door chimed as it was hit by the glass partition and a second later Jack's voice boomed out, "I'm back Henry.  Were there any problems while I was gone?"  He spoke while never once looking up from his paper.

   "Nothing I can't handle Mr. Pryor," Henry who was dusting a floor console near the door said with a grin.  "With the exception of that Nervous Nell brother of yours."  He gestured over to Pete who stood next to the service counter in the back looking like he were about to wet himself if he had to wait a moment longer.

   Jack glanced over at his brother and then at Henry.  "What is Pete doing here?"

   "He didn't say," Henry shrugged his shoulders.

   At that point, Pete could wait no longer and made a direct line towards Jack who still stood near the door.  "We need to talk," he said in a hurried voice.

   Jack placed his cup; paper and briefcase on the console Henry had just cleaned and pulled his coat back from his shoulders.  "If this is about money, Pete, then know that this well has been taped dry.  I haven't won that hotel bid yet."

   "It's not money," Pete stop sharply nearly bouncing on his feet.  "Have you spoken to Helen yet, today?"

   "No," Jack said eyeing his brother suspiciously and handing his coat to Henry's waiting arms.  "I been in meetings all morning and haven't spoken to my wife since breakfast."

   Pete kept looking at Henry who was standing next to his boss waiting for further instructions.

   Jack noticed his unease and then looked deep into his brother's eyes.  "What is this all about, Pete?"

   With another look over his shoulder at Henry, Pete swallowed hard and wiped his lips with his fingers.  His eyes were troubled and filled with concern as he looked again into Jack's face.  "It's about Richie."

   The words seemed to drive through the room like rushing water from a dam that had been broken wide open and rushed at them.  The color seemed to drain from Jack's face for a split moment as his younger brother tried to get a gauge on his reaction.

   "Henry," Jack called out to his assistant without turning.  "Could you bring my things into the storeroom while my bother and I have a talk?

   "Sure, Mr. Pryor," Henry nodded collect the items from atop the television and carry them and the coat into the back room.  All the while, the two Pryor brothers stood not once taking their eyes off each other.

   "What do you think you are doing, Pete?" Jack growled in a very low voice.  "We both know to never bring up that name."

   A nervous smile came to Pete's face as his upper lip twitched.  "Then maybe you should tell that to your wife."

   "Helen?" Jack questioned.  "What does Helen have to say about Richie?"

   "She called me at the station this morning and invited me dinner at your house tonight," Pete told him while his eyes kept dancing looking for Jack's reactions on his face.  "It turns out that the long lost Prodigal showed up at your house this morning, and Helen has decided that it would be nice to have a small family reunion."

   Jack's eyes seem to change as if they were on fire, and he perched his lips tightly together trying not to clench his teeth.  He wanted to speak, but could not find the words without loosing his temper, so he turned away from his brother and leaned himself against the frame of the console.

   "Jack," Pete reached for his brother, but his hands were shrugged away.

   "I'm okay," Jack was finally able to let his words out.

   "Helen didn't want me to say anything until she could talk to you, but I just thought you might want a warning shot before she sprang it on you," Pete tried to explain his reasoning to his brother.  "I'm real sorry he feels that he has to do this to you again, Jack."

   "And what is he doing to me, Pete?" Jack rubbed his face with both hands trying not to let it show how upset he truly was and even force a smile.  "Richie decides to blow back into town after twelve years and now he wants us to be the happy little family we never really were."

   "You don't know what he wants," Pete reminded with a grimace.  "For all we know he's just here to get something off his chest, and then he'll disappear again for another decade."

   "But not with my family in his pocket this time," Jack slammed his fist on the television.  "I watched him break Mom and Dad's hearts and then Helen's, but we were adults.  We could handle the lost, but I will not stand bye and watch as he suckers my children into some family bond and then just walk out like before."

   Jack turned to his brother again.  "I had to watch the first time as my little six years old boy's heart was crushed by that self centered jerk, and I will not let him do the same to the rest of my family again and I will not allow him to make me stand bye while he breaks JJ's heart with Meg's, Patty's and Will's in the collection."

   "Jack," Pete grabbed his brother's shoulder.  "You don't have to tell me these things.  I know how deep he cut into you the last time he was here.  I was there for the whole thing.  I remember." He paused for effect.  "But we don't know why Richie is even here.  I'm not saying to let him in only to hurt you again, but I am telling you not to reopen old wounds.  Don't let him do that to us again."

   Pulling himself away, Jack walked a few feet deeper into the store.  "What should I do, Pete?" He spoke waving one arm.  "Should I just turn him away before he gets a strong hold on my family again?"

   Pete ran his hands through his hair.  "I don't know, Jack," he shrugged.  "Maybe you need to give him a few minutes and hear him out.  Find out what he wants, and then send him packing."

   Turning to face Pete, Jack considered what he was saying.  "I will never be able to forgive him, Pete.  I will never forget how he broke Mom and Dad's heart and then to just disappear like he did."

   "I know," Pete sighed.  "I also know that this is also about how much he broke your heart too.  I remember how close the two of you were when we were kids.  Even though you guys would include me in on most of your adventures, it was like you two talked your own languish and no matter how close we were, compared to the two of you, I was always the odd man out."

   Jack gave him a cautious look.  "We never tried to make you feel that way, Pete."

   "I know," Pete shook his head.  "Beside, I was allot younger than you guys, and before long I had my own set of friends and adventures.  I didn't say that to make you feel bad.  I am just saying that I know you guys were real close."

   "Yeah," Jack agreed with a nod.

   "Do you miss your younger brother?" Pete asked.

   Where this conversation was going became clear to Jack as he looked into Pete's eyes.  "You think I should meet with him, don't you?"

   Pete tilted his head to the right slightly and rubbed his exposed neck.  "I think you can answer that one better than I can, Jack.  But I also have never known you to not see something through to the end."

   Jack toyed with a small display sign shifting it from side to side on the shelf as he thought about the situation.  After a few long minutes, he turned back to Pete again.  "I'll do it.  I will welcome Richie into my house one more time, but so help me, Pete.  If he hurts my family again, I will kill him."

   Pete could not help but swallow another lump in his throat as the intensity of Jack's words sank into his consciousness.

**To Be Continued:**


	2. Chapter Two

He Ain't Heavy: Chapter Two 

   The sun was well hidden behind the late afternoon rain and was already giving way to the evening dusk as Will Pryor watched out the front Living room window for his father to arrive home from work to tell him of the eventful day with the discovery of the new uncle that he was sure that his Dad would not know about.

   Meg Pryor sat at the kitchen table with her books open attempting to finish her latest homework assignment in hopes to keep her falling grades from plummeting any further so she could also keep her American Bandstand dreams alive.  The task of turning the written words on the pages into coherent thoughts in her head were being made more difficult by the blaring sounds from the television a few feet away.

   "Patty!" Meg said in a huff turning to her sister who sat before the black and white set with a small bowl of grapes.  "Will you please turn that show down?"

   "I'm watching the news, Meg," Patty said with a huff.  "I like to be well informed."

   "Yeah, well some of us are not living memory machines, Patty, and we need to concentrate on our work without so many distractions," Meg said with disgust.

   "Why can't you study up in your room like every other time and let me watch my television," Patty gave her a mean face.

   "Because I want to be here when Dad or Uncle Richie get here," Meg said tilting her head to one side squinting her eyes.  "I want to see when Dad meets his brother again."

   "They may rather do that in private," Helen said from her watch over the pots on the stove.  She cocked her head around the corner.  "Patty turn that TV down and help Meg set the dinning room table."

   "Why do I have to help?" Patty protested not moving an inch.  "It's Meg turn."

   "Because I asked you to," Helen said sternly.  "Now will you both please move and Meg get your books off the kitchen table."

   Meg took a deep breath in exasperation and began collecting an arm full of her books.  "Okay, fine," she grunted.  "But no one in this house better be upset with me if I fail English Lit this semester."

   "That wouldn't be anything new," JJ entered the room from the hall with a sly remark and a glint in his eyes over his half smile.  "It's a good thing American Bandstand doesn't require any words larger than 'it has a good beat and you can dance to it'."

   "Very funny, JJ," she shot him her worst sister face.  "At least those words are bigger than 'Hike' and 'run fast'."

   JJ shrugged his sister's comments off and turned his attention to his mother as Meg disappeared into the hall with her books,  "Have you talked to Dad today?"

   "No," Helen gave the clock on the wall a worried glance.  "My study group ran long this afternoon and I didn't have time to go by the store."

   "Do you think he knows?" JJ reached for a piece of French bread off the hood of the stove.

   "Well I know Pete knows," she said stirring her spaghetti sauce.  "And knowing him, he must have gone straight to your father with the news."

   JJ ran the sliver of bread through the sauce.  "What do you think he will do?"

   Helen stopped what she was doing and stood completely still for a moment.  After a long second, she turned her head to look into JJ's face.  "I wish I knew, JJ.  I just want everything to go smoothly and not have a big argument over dinner."

   Slipping the bread with the rich red sauce into his mouth, he gave his mother a worried look.

   The spoon in her hand slipped from her grip as Helen saw that same well known look in her son's eyes that she had seen twelve years earlier when he was barely a child out of her arms.  It was a look of lost and confusion thinly veiled behind a wall of childlike hope.

   "JJ," she started with a deep sigh.  "I hope I don't have to tell you to take this slowly and don't try to force your father's opinion where his brother is concerned.  I know you are hoping all of this will work out and you might have your uncle back, but there is too much history between them for your father to just forget everything that has happen."

   "That's just it, Mom," he said low enough that the kids in the other room could not hear.  "All my life you have been telling me that there were problems and reasons for Uncle Richie to just disappear like he did, but no one has ever told me what they were.  I think I am old enough to know what happen."

   "And I want to tell you JJ, really I do," his mother touched his face.  "But your father is a very hard headed man, and he doesn't want you to have to carry the burden of his disappointment with his brother."

   "Or maybe he doesn't want me to form my own opinion and to tell him that he may be wrong in this," JJ scuffed his sneaker on the linoleum.  

   "That's not fair, JJ," Helen gave him a stern look.  "Your father has never been one to burden you children with family problems, and he is not about to start."

   JJ leaned both fist against the counter top.  "That's the point, Mom," he said with a remorseful tone.  "I'm not that five year old boy you and Dad have been keeping this big family secret from anymore."

   Helen shook her head in disappointment.  "Please don't make this harder on your father than it already is."

   "I just want to understand, Mom," JJ turned and leaned against the counter.  "I mean uncle Pete may have been involved with the whole gambling thing on my football team which may have cost me my scholarship, but Dad has no problem still talking to him after he destroyed his dreams.  Why is Uncle Richie so different?"

   "Because," Helen said as she picked up the spoon again with a grimace on her face.  "Even when you lost your chance at Notre Dame, your father was furious at first, but he realized that it may have been more of his dream than yours, so he was okay with his own hopes being dashed, but your Uncle Richie didn't just hurt your father, he hurt the entire Pryor family with your grandparents being at the top of that list."

   "Didn't Uncle Ted hurt Grand Dad?" JJ asked.

   "Yes," Helen sighed.  "But what Richie did was more complicated.  At least it was in your father's eyes."

   "What do you think about it?" JJ asked as their gazes met.

   "I," Helen hesitated.  "I don't have an opinion in your father's family, JJ.  My job is to stand by my husband and follow his lead."

   JJ let his head sink a little.

   "JJ," she placed her hand on the back of his head turning away from the stove.  "I missed your uncle after he left, too.  Richie was like my brother too, he was the first real friend I had in the Pryor family outside of your father and having him just taken away from our lives the way that he was, was very hurtful for all of us."

   "Did he leave on his own?" JJ asked closing his eyes.  "Or did Dad send him away?"

   At that point, Meg appeared at the entrance door to the hall and her mother looked over at her.  "I was coming to tell you that Patty wasn't helping me with the table setting," she started.  "But I guess she was too busy listening in on your talk," Meg pointed behind her mother to where Patty was huddled close to the archway between the kitchen and the living room.

   "Patty," her mother scowled.  "JJ and I were having a private conversation."

   "I'm sorry," Patty glanced at the floor.  "I just wanted to hear more about Daddy's brother."

   JJ looked up at his mother as they all stood there with complete interest in her every word.  "I think we would all like to know more."

   "What about JJ's question?"  Patty reminded them.  "Who asked Richie to leave?"

   "Uncle Richie," Helen corrected as she walked slowly over to the table.  "There was never a real request for Richie to leave town, as far as I know," she placed her hands on the back of one chair.  "But I guess when your father told him that he no longer wanted him in this house, and your grand parents had done the same, Richie took it as a cue that it was time to leave for good."

   "He never tried to contact us?" Meg asked stepping into the room.

   Helen sat at the table.  "There were cards and gifts during the first few holidays in the two or three years that followed, but your father would always return them unopened, so I guess Richie got the idea and they just stopped coming."

   JJ took the seat to her left and Meg the one to the right as Patty slipped into the chair next to Meg.  They all watched attentively as their mother sat silent in her memories.

   "What happed Mom?"  JJ was the one who asked the question that was on all their minds.  "What did Uncle Richie do that was so bad?"

   Will had left his seat at the window and saw that they were all in the kitchen and joined them.  He wanted to speak up, but saw from the looks on their faces that this was not a time for his questions.  He slowly hobbled over to where JJ sat and allowed him self to be pulled onto his lap.

   A smile came across Helen's face as she watched her four children all huddled closely around her with concern.  She marveled at each small miracle that God had blessed her with four times.  She patted Will's hand as he rested his head on JJ's shoulder.

   She slowly thought of her words before she allowed her lips to part, and she said, "When he was young, Uncle Richie was a very small and sickly child who tried to fit in with your father and other uncles, but he always felt that he could never compete or keep up with them, so he had decided he had to try and carve out his own place in this world, so on the advice of one of the priest in his school, he started looking into becoming a priest himself.  It was one of the things he knew he could do to make his Mom and Dad proud of him, even when he didn't have the health for sports or the mind for business."

   "Did Grand Mom and Grand Dad make him feel like he had to make them proud?" Meg asked.

   "I don't think so," Helen shook her head.  "I think it was more of your Uncle's perspective from growing up under Uncle Ted and your Dad.  He saw how proud your Grand parents were of them, and he wanted to make his mark too."

   "So then what happen?" Patty coached.

   "When he told his parents that he thought he might have heard the call to be a priest, they were so thrilled and proud, that he knew he had to go through with it and make them happy for the son they had only been worried about up until then," Helen explained.  "So your uncle set out to be what his parents wanted him to be, and he eventually became a priest."

   "I remember that, now," JJ smiled.  "I remember him wearing the collar when he would come over for dinner after church every Sunday."

   "That's right," Helen grinned back.  "He was ordained three weeks before you were born, and at your father's request, you were his first baptism."

   "That's important, isn't it?" Will asked looking up into JJ's face.

   "Yes," JJ stared down wrapping his arms around his little brother's belly.  "Yes it is, Thrill."

   "So Dad was happy about Uncle Richie being a priest?" Meg asked with a nod.

   "The entire Pryor family was thrilled," Helen smiled.  "To have a son enter the priesthood is every catholic family's dream.  Your grand mother was besides herself with delight."

   They all noticed as her mood became quiet again.

   "But then something happen, didn't it?" JJ asked with concern.

   "Yes," Helen nodded dropping her gaze.  "Richie would never talk about it, and I don't think we ever learned why, but about a year after he was assigned to Saint Catherine's, he didn't seem to be the happy man he was when he went into the priesthood.  He was becoming quiet and withdrawn from the family."  She toyed with her hands over the table.  "Richie didn't much seem like Richie anymore.  His moods were dark and he just kept to himself more."

   Her eyes met JJ's again.  "About all he would ever do was spend time with you on the living room floor playing with you and your toys when he came over.  His time with you seemed to be his only escape from what ever was torturing his soul at that time."

   The sides of JJ's lips tilted up slightly as he tried to remember the happy time with his uncle.  He was so young and it had been so long ago, that most of those images were lost in time.

   Helen took a deep breath and continued.  "It was about a week before he disappeared when Richie approached his parents and told them that he had decided to leave the ministry and had already started the lengthy process months earlier.  No one had questioned why he was no longer saying services since he had been sick a few times during his stay here in Philadelphia and had had to miss several services in a row.  We just thought he was not feeling well, and as Richie had always done, that he was just keeping to himself."

   "There must have been something going on," JJ voiced the thought of the group.

   "Like I said," Helen repeated softly.  "Richie never talked about it."

   "What happen when he came here?" Meg asked.  "JJ said that there was some kind of fight here on that last night."

   Helen eyed her son with concern.  "You remember that?"

   "Only bits and pieces," he said rocking slightly with Will in his arms.  "Mostly I remember allot of yelling and slamming of doors."

   She cocked her eyebrows quickly as she stared at her hands again.  "Richie came and tried to tell your father his reasons for leaving the church, and when I had left the room, I could hear them in loud whispers talking about something that was very bothersome to each of them, but even with all the screaming, they never told me what was so upsetting."

   "So Dad threw him out?" JJ said as Will nuzzled closer.  

   "There were allot of harsh words and threats before then," she said with a heavy sigh.  "But yes, your father asked him to leave and he never came back.  After your grand parents said he was no longer their son."

   "That was so harsh," Meg spoke up with disgust.  "Just because they didn't agree with him was no reason to cut him out of the family."

   "Grand Mom and Grand Dad were very old school Catholics," Helen told her.  "Your Uncle was denounced and ostracized by the church, and it would be expected for all good Catholics to shun him from that moment on."

   "But he was their son?" Meg added.

   "I don't understand fully why they did what they did either, Meg," Helen said with a hint of exasperation.  "All I can tell you is what happen, and that was the question you wanted answered."

   "If I'm bad?"  Will spoke up from JJ's lap.  "Will you 'shunt' me?"

   "The word is 'shun', honey," Helen touched his cheek with a smile.  "And no I don't think I will ever shun you."

   It was then that they heard the front door opening.  The familiar shuffle of Jack's things in the hall could be heard as he removed his coat and hat placing them on the hook in the foyer.

   "That's your father," Helen jumped up.  "Girls hurry up and set the table, and Will, would you please go wash up before dinner."

   "But I'm clean," he protested from his comfortable position lean against JJ's shoulder as the two girls disappeared into the dinning room without a word.

   JJ pushed his up slightly and patted his head.  "Why don't you do what Mom ask and I'll be up in a minute to help you pick out a clean shirt for our company."

   "Okay," Will agreed reluctantly sliding off his brother's knee.  He turned and saw a concern look on the older boys face.  "JJ," he shook his hands.  "You would never 'shush' me, would you?"

   Raising his head to look into the little boy's eyes, JJ pulled him in for an unexpected hug.  "Not in a million years, Will."

   Will was caught off guard, but managed to return some semblance of affection towards his bigger brother by patting his arms.  "That's good to know."

   Watching the touching exchanged, Helen waited a few second after they had separated and she reminded, "Now go up and wash."

   "Okay," Will grunted swinging his braced leg around and began his slow walk towards the hall.  In the doorway he passed his father who patted him on the head.  

   "Hey sport," Jack greeted.

   "Can't talk now," Will remarked very deflated.  "Gotta go wash up."

   "Okay," Jack chuckle as he took a minute to watch his son walk away.

   "Hi Jack," Helen turned slightly from the stove and kissed his cheek.  "Dinner should be ready soon."

   "That's fine," he commented giving her a careful look.  "If Pete hadn't filled me in this afternoon about our dinner guest, I would have thought I walked into the wrong house just now," he gave her a smile.  "I mean the girls are in the dinning room setting the table with out so much as a word between them.  Will is off to clean up and JJ is actually here early.  Not to mention how quiet everything is around here for a change."

   Helen studied her pot before her.  "Everyone is a little concern with how you would take the news about Richie."

   Reaching up over the stove, Jacked pulled a piece of bread from the loaf just as his son had done.  "What is there to be concerned about?  My brother is in town and wants to have dinner with us."

   Helen watched as his hand shook slightly dipping the bread in the sauce.  "He'll come in here, give us more depressing news, and then disappear for another twelve years.  It's like a manuscript for him.  The story never changes."

   "Jack," Helen let out in a slow breath.

   "I'm not going to do it Helen," he turned away popping the bread in his mouth.  "It Richie has come all the way back here from where ever he has been hiding out these past few years, he's welcome to do so, but I will not let him upset me or my family.  The problems he had with my folks are dead and buried with them, and as far as I am concern, so is he."

   "Dad," JJ stood up before his father.  "Why do you have to go into this with such a negative mind?  Maybe Uncle Richie is here to say he's sorry and to try and build a new future with his family."

   Jack stopped for a moment and peered into his eyes.  "Ted and Pete are welcome to build any relationship they want with my low life of a brother, but I will not have the man who hurt my parents as badly as he did, doing the same number on my kids."

   When Jack had passed, JJ lowered his head and muttered, "Maybe we would like to make that choice on our own."

   The sudden loud crash behind her forced Helen to turn with a start as she saw Jack had quickly grabbed JJ by the collar of his shirt with both hands and had slammed his son against the refrigerator.

   "What was that, JJ?" He screamed into his son's face.  "Are you questioning my judgment and right to protect my family?"

   "Jack," Helen was at her husband back trying to pull him free.

   "What are you not telling me, JJ?" Jack continued as JJ had his head turned and pressed against the cool door.  "Are you telling me that you want to take the word of a man who has done nothing but tell lies for the last thirty five years of his life, over the word of your own father who has done nothing but watch over and protect you and your sisters and brother your whole life?"

   "Jack please," Helen was pulling with all her might as Meg and Patty came running into the room with astonished looks on their faces.  "He didn't mean anything by it."

   JJ's face was pressed tightly together with a look of part fear and anger for his father.  He could have fought back, but chose not to.  "Dad, please."

   "What do you want from me, JJ?" Jack snarled into his son's face as he fought to keep his anger inside from turning to grief.  "I can't give you anything more than I have already given to him.  He bled us dry once, and I don't know if I can stand bye and watch him do it again."

   JJ turned his head and looked into his father's eyes.  The anger had given way to fear and grief, in spite of his best efforts.  His hands remained where they were, but it was JJ's own will power that held him in place to where he was.  The force behind Jack's attack was gone, and he now held his son with fear of letting go more than the anger of maintaining control.

   Finally Helen was able to pull him away and JJ allowed himself to slump slightly.  She led Jack over to the table as JJ leaned forward resting his weight on his bent knees.  She held her husband's face and brushed away a few stray tears.

   "I'm sorry," he said softly.  "I didn't think I was this upset."

   "It's okay, Jack," she smiled sweetly.  "We understand."

   "JJ," Jack reached over and touched his sons arm.  "I'm sorry son, I didn't mean to attack you like that."

   Standing back to his full height, JJ tossed his head back as if in a defiant stand.  "It's okay, Dad."

   "No," Jack shook his head and pulled JJ closer.  "It's not okay.  You are the only one besides your Mother and I who remembers Richie, so it only stands to reason that you would be having a hard time with this too, and I should have taken that into consideration."

   JJ nodded his head, but still had a look as if he were not totally convinced at what his father was telling him.  Not saying another word, the father pulled his son into a hug, and much to his own surprise, JJ found he needed to return the gesture and hugged his father back.

   After a few seconds, Jack pulled away and turned his attention to all of them who were in the room.  "I just want to say something before your uncle gets here," he started.  "I loved my brother once deeply, but he hurt me really bad, and I am having a hard time to believe that he would just come to town without an ulterior motive, but I don't want you kids to be upset by what we might say to each other or with our behavior at times during dinner.  Richie has hurt enough people over the years, and I will not let him hurt my family again."

   "We," Meg licked her dry lips.  "We understand, Dad."

   Every head in the room shot up and every eye widen as they heard the sound of the doorbell ringing.  Each gave the other a cautious glance.

   "I'll get it," Patty was the first to speak up.

   "No you will not," Helen stopped her from escaping.  "You girls go finish setting the table and keep an eye on the stove while your father and I answer the door."

   "What do I do?" JJ asked quietly.

   "Go upstairs and help Will with a clean shirt," she pressed down his collar with her hands.  "Please."

   JJ nodded and started up the hall before them. He turned up the steps just as Jack, with Helen on his heals got to the phone table in the foyer.  Jack stopped sharply and watched as his brothers figure moved slightly behind the thin curtain over the door's window.

   "It' him," Helen said almost in a whisper in her husband's ear.  "Open the door, Jack."

   He nodded and took the last few steps.  His hand reached the knob and slowly twisted it and released the grasp of the door to the frame and slowly pulled the object until he had a complete view of his younger brother.

   JJ had stopped half way up the stairs and stooped to watch as the two girls huddled around the corner in the dinning room door with a view of the entrance way.  They all watched their father attentively as his eyes met with his brother's for the first time in twelve years.

   "Hi, Jack," Richie's voice seemed to loose it's breath as he fought to place a smile over his fear.  "It's been a long time."

   His hand was held out for a shake and Jack allowed his vision to gaze down at it.

   "Jack," Helen tried to coax her husband.  "Richie wants to shake your hand."

   After a few seconds, they both realized the handshake was not going to happening, and Richie lowered his hand back to his side.  "You're looking good Jack."

   Lifting his eyes again, Jack's view took in his brother's face.  He had not aged very much in all twelve years, but he looked haggard and tired.  His eyes were underlined with wrings and the white around his corneas were all blood shot.  The large braces cover most of his lower body and the slight swagger as if he were not able to stand in one place for very long, gave Jack a cause to worry, but he could not let his memory of his lost brother get in the way of hating this stranger that stood before him now.  Jack took a step back slightly pushing Helen to one side.

   "What's wrong, Jack?" she asked taking his arm.

   Jack's head shook side to side as he continued to step back.  "I can't do this," he stuttered.  "I can't do the handshake or the small talk."

   "Jack, please," Helen, pleaded trying to restrain him from leaving.  "We can get through one simple dinner."

   "No, Helen," He swung his head and pulled free from her grasp.  "I can't do this," he turned sharply.  "I won't do this."

   "Jack," she yelled out to her husband as he rushed through the kitchen and out the back door.

   Not knowing what to say, Helen turned back towards her brother in law with a silent puzzled look.

   Richie plastered as fake smile on his face.  "Well, that went well."

   Again Helen stood silent as they all allowed the shock to set in.

   When JJ entered the room he shared with his little brother, he found the young boy staring at his shirt that seemed not to fit very well.  A smile came to his face in spite of the turmoil that was going through his mind.  It seemed that Will, in his rush to get dressed and return to the action of a floor below, had missed one of the button holes on his shirt, and the left side of his shirt was two inches higher than his right.

   With a sheepish look, Will glanced up at his big brother.  "I can't get it to work right, JJ."

   Sitting on the edge of his bed, the elder son waved him over to himself.  "I'll fix it."

   Will made his way over to where JJ sat and allowed him to unbutton his over shirt.  "I know how to do it, JJ," he insisted as he watched.  "This shirt is just broken."

   "I can see that, buddy," JJ smiled meekly at him.  "I think you might have made it worst by missing a button hole though.  Let's see if I can fix both of the problems."

   It took a few seconds for the task to be accomplished when JJ patted the shirt down neatly tucking it into his brother's waist.  "There, that should work for now.  Try not to break it again."

   Inspecting his brother's work, Will lifted his head to see that JJ was not smiling anymore.  He waited for him to say something, but JJ sat silent staring at the buttons, while deep within his own thought.

   "JJ?" Will opened softly.

   "Yeah, Thrill?"  JJ returned looking up again.

   "Why does Daddy hate Uncle Richie?" His innocent eyes bore deep into JJ's soul.

   "I," he had to look away.  "I don't think Dad and Uncle Richie hate each other so much as they have allot of anger that they haven't been able to work on since Uncle Richie left after the last fight all those years ago, and they haven't had a chance to work out their differences."

   "Do you think we will ever fight like that?" Will asked.

   "I hope not, Will," JJ patted his arms.  "Maybe if we promise not to ever stay mad at each other, then we can make sure it will never happen."

   "I promise," Will said nodding his head once, briskly.

   "Me too, buddy," JJ chuckled.  "Me too."

   Will spun his head around and searched the room.  "What do we do now?" He asked.  "Should we go downstairs and eat?"

   "Let's give the grown ups a few minutes," JJ stood up.  "Mom will call us when supper is ready."

   "Okay." Will spread his arms and then let them fall at his side.  "Do you want to play a game?"

   JJ made his way over to the window and saw the light in the garage was lit.  Jack Pryor had retreated to his usual place of solace in times of distress, and was trying to busy himself with his latest project.

   "JJ," Will called out.

   "What is it," JJ divided his attention between the window and Will.

   "Do you want to play a game with me?" Will asked.

   The sight of his Uncle leaving the kitchen door and walking towards the garage got JJ's attention.  "Not right now, Thrill," JJ said pressing his forehead to the windowpane.  "Maybe later."

   Will shrugged his shoulders at his brother's disinterest and reached for a small wooden airplane that sat on the trunk at the foot of the bed and began spinning the large propeller on the nose as JJ kept a watchful eye out the window.

   Jack Pryor was sanding a block of wood on his worktable as he heard the old wooden door open and very heavy footsteps walking up behind him.  The shuffling sound stopped a few feet away.

   "I don't have anything to say to you," Jack said over his shoulder with a mater of fact tone.

   "So you are just going to brush me off and ignore me after all this time?" Richie asked.

   "Yeah," Jack shrugged his shoulders.  "It almost like what you have done to us for the last twelve years."

   "I left because I was given little choice in the matter," Richie said walking up next to his brother trying to remain calm.  "My own family called me a disgrace and said they wanted nothing to do with me any longer.  What was I suppose to do, Jack."

   Jack stopped his sanding and leaned against the table.  "You could have given us five minutes to work through the disappointment and then tried to meet us half way.  But like with everything else in your life, you took the easy way out and then ran."

   "That's not true Jack, and you know it," Richie grimaced.  "My God Jack, I had to fight for every thing I ever got in my life because there were always people who were willing to beat me down for what I had, but I was tired of fighting.  I didn't think I should have to fight for my own family.  Not for revealing the truth."

   "Why not fight, Richie," Jack turned to face him.  "I sure as heck did a lot of fighting for you when we were kids."

   "And don't you think I truly appreciated it?"  Richie pleaded.  "Jack.  You were always more than just a big brother to me.  You were my hero when we were growing up.  I use to brag to all the other kids in school that I didn't have to buy those comic magazines that they were all spending their parent's money on, because I had my own Superman at home."

   "Jack," Richie placed his hand on Jack's shoulder.  "I didn't want to leave, but I could not live with the disappointment every time I looked in Pop's eyes.  He was heart sick when I left the priesthood and then I had to go up against his church."

   "Why did you have to attack the Church, Richie?  It only made matters worst." Jack added sharply.

   "I had to, Jack," Richie retorted.  "I had to tell someone what I knew.  To put and end to all the pain."

   "Why hurt so many people when you still left the church?" Jack asked.

   "You of all people know why I did it, Jack," Richie explained  "For God's sake, Jack, how long were we suppose to keep silent?  How many more people had to suffer for our secret?"

   Jack pulled away from his brother, "Your need to clear the air destroyed our family and almost destroyed a whole church community"

   "You don't know how much it broke me up inside to have to leave the church when I did, knowing that it would hurt Mom and Dad so much, but you also don't know what went on while I was in the priesthood," Richie spoke loudly.  "I had to leave it to keep my own sanity, and I am not sorry for what I did.  I feel that I have done this community a great service"

   "You were wrong," Jack tossed his hands in the air.  "You almost destroyed Saint Catharine's single handedly, Richie.  It took us years to recover, and even more time to forget you ever were a part of our lives."

   Richie braced himself against the table.  "I never meant to hurt anyone, Jack.  Much less my own parents, and it ripped me apart inside to know that they were hurting, but they were the ones who shut me out."

   "No one wanted to do that Richie, but you never gave us a chance to work through it," Jack turned away.  "You did what you always did, and ran for cover."

   "That's not fair, Jack," Richie sniffed.  "There were many fights I had to fight on my own when you were not around, but you only saw the ones where you jumped to the rescue before I even had a chance to react.  I always ran because that was what you would tell me to do while you handled the bullies."

   "You know what?" Jack put his right hand in the air.  "I don't want to have this talk, because it doesn't matter.  We've been good without you for twelve years, and we will be good for the next fifty."

   Richie ran his right hand through the sawdust on the table.  "Maybe I'm not fine, Jack.  I want my family again.  I know I can't begin where I left off, but I am willing to work on rebuilding our relationship."

   With swift motion, Jack turned back and stared his brother down.  "Don't bother, Richie.  I don't want to have anything to do with you, and I don't want you coming around and bothering my family.  Go back to what ever rock you crawled out from under and stay there."

   The room became deathly silent, and the sound of the soft breeze rushing by the outer window became the over powering noise of the room as Richie searched for his brother behind Jack's steel cold eyes, but the boy he had grown up with and loved was gone, and a bitter middle age man stood in his place.

   Slowly looking at the dust on his hand, Richie brushed his right with his left and placed both hands in his coat pocket.  "Okay Jack," he said under his breath.  "I understand how you feel, but there were things that happen that even you never knew about."  

   "That's the story of your life, Richie," Jack growled.  "You have never been the one at fault."

   "You know Jack," Richie stopped at the door and looked up to the heavens.  "I can see how you would have me painted as the bad guy in all of this, but it might interest you to know that my idea for leaving Philadelphia was not entirely my own."

   Jack looked back over his shoulder.

   "I guess in the past twelve years that no one has ever bothered to tell you what happen after I left here that night," Richie added as he held back a few anguished tears.  "You might try asking Pete what happen when I showed up at Mom and Pop's later that night.  Maybe he could tell you how hurt I was when my own father asked me to leave town to help the family avoid any further embarrassment.  My father told me to leave because he was planning on standing with the lies of the church and not me.  I didn't fight, Jack, because I had nothing left to fight for."

   It took Jack Pryor a minute to take in what he had just heard, and by the time he turned to face his brother again, the younger man was gone, and he stood alone in the cold empty garage with the harsh words between them hanging in the air.

   Helen Pryor met her brother in law at the door to the kitchen and saw the hurt look on his face.  It did not take much for her to know what had happen.  "Oh Richie," she sighed.  "I'm so sorry."

   "It's okay, Helen," Richie tried to put on a brave face.  "Jack has been living with this hurt for twelve years.  I was a fool to think he would forget it all in one night."

   "I'm still sorry," she stood clenching a dishcloth as if for security.

   He nodded and walked pass her. "Thank you for the dinner invitation, Helen.  It might have been nice."

   "Are you going to be in town a few days?" She asked as he walked towards the hall.

   He stopped and looked back at her with a questionable look.  "I don't think there is any point.  Do you?"

   "Please," Helen took a step closer.  "Give him a few days and I'll talk to him."

   "I don't know, Helen," he lowered his head.

   "Richie," she placed a hand on his arm.  "Don't run out on him.  Not this time, please."

   He met with her big blue eyes as he raised his head. 

   "Two days," she said with a small smile.  "Give him two days, and try again, before you leave."

   In all the years that he had known Helen, he had never been able to say no to his sister in law.  She was the one true person besides Jack and JJ that Richie had been able to keep in his heart, and her power of influence over him was as strong now as it had been on the day she had convinced him to play Santa Claus for JJ's third Christmas when Jack could not make it home from work early enough in the blinding snow storm.

   "Okay," he nodded.  "For you."

   She leaned in and hugged the man.  "Thank you, Richie.  Jack still cares, he just needs time to work through his feelings."

   "I pray you are right, Helen," he pulled away and forced a smile.

   It was then that JJ entered the room.  "Well?"

   Richie turned to his nephew.  "Not this time, kiddo," he ginned sheepishly.

   Scuffing the floor with his shoe, JJ looked away with a frown.  "I'm sorry," he said balling his hands into fist inside his jean pockets.

   "Hey," Richie pulled him in close.  "Your Mom is right," he touched JJ's arm with one hand.  "Give your Dad some time to work this out.  Jack may be a strong pillar for you and your brother and sisters, but he's still my big brother who I hurt very much, and he needs a little time to get over the betrayal."

   He ruffled his hand through his nephew's hair.  "I love you, Jackie, and that will never change."

   "Do you have your car?" Helen asked sniffing away a tear before it fell.

   "No," Richie released JJ and turned back to her.  "I am not able to drive with these braces, so I'll just go to the corner and wait for the bus."

   "I'll drive you," JJ spoke up quickly.

   "I don't," he started to say as Helen stopped him.

   "JJ will drive you, Richie," she gave him a mock stern look.  "Would you like me to pack you some food to take with you?"

   "As much as I would love to taste your cooking again," Richie returned a polite smile.  "I am not much in the mood for food right now.  I don't have any way to keep if fresh or reheat it, so I'll pass."

   "Okay," she kissed his cheek.  "But you come by any afternoon you have a need for a piece of my world famous apple pie."

   "I will," he nodded.  "Thank you, Helen."

   It was about fifteen minutes later when Jack had finally had enough of the cold garage and he made his way back into the house to find Helen dumping the drained noodles into a serving bowl as she stood over the sink with the colander of spaghetti.  He made his way over to her and kissed her softly on the cheek.

   "I asked JJ to drive Richie back to the hotel," she said as she attended her meal trying not to make it sound like anything out of the normal.

   Jack walked over to the sauce and ran the large spoon through the thick red juice.  "I'm sorry I ruin your dinner plans."

   "I'm sorry Richie felt he couldn't stay," she said stepping to his side with the bowl.

   "Uncle Pete is here," Patty entered the room with her youngest uncle in trail.

   A stern look came to Jack's face as Helen turned to him.

   "Patty," Helen handed her the bowl.  "Could you take this into the dinning room and then run up and get Will for supper?"

   "But JJ is not back yet," Patty protested taking the food.

   "I know," Helen returned.  "Just do it anyway."

   Patty shrugged and left the room as instructed.

   "Hey Jack," Pete smiled widely.  "Hasn't our long lost brother showed up yet?"

   "Helen," Jack spoke never once taking his eyes from his brother.  "Could you give us a minute?"

   "Sure," Helen said cautiously pouring the sauce into another servicing bowl.  "I'll just take this into the dinning room."

   Waiting for her to leave, Jack then spoke to his youngest sibling.  "What happen that night after Richie left here for the last time, twelve years ago?"

   Pete looked at Jack with a puzzled stare.  "I don't understand," he spoke.  "What did Richie tell you?"

   "He said that you were the one who could tell me," Jack replied.

   "I don't know what he was talking about," Pete shifted his weight nervously.  

   "Did Rich go over to Mom and Pop's after he left here?"  Jack asked.

   "I don't know, he might have," Pete rubbed his neck.

    Jack allowed his eyes to drop to the floor.

   "Come on Jack," Pete sighed.  "What did Richie tell you?"

   Jack pushed himself away from the counter and walked pass his baby brother. "Exactly what you are hoping he didn't, Pete.  It seems while everyone was hating Richie, you were all lying to me."

   "Jack," Pete turned quickly to him.  "No one lied to you.  Pop handled things in the best way he could.  He wanted the family to be spared any further embarrassments, and he thought the best way to do that was to get Richie out of town for a while."

   "Twelve years, Pete," Jack turned back sharply.  "Pop has been dead for a long time, and still Richie didn't feel he could came back because he thought we all felt the same way."

   "Pop was a stubborn man. He wasn't going to let anyone destroy his family or his church," Pete tried to explain.  "It was better for everyone concerned if Richie just disappeared." 

   Jack stopped at the doorframe and rested his hand against it as he looked over his shoulder.  "Pop was wrong, Pete.  He was wrong about a lot of things."

   When Jack and the others were in the dinning room, the doorbell rang.  Meg jumped up from her seat and announced.  "I'll get it."

   Jack gave a disapproving sigh as she rushed away.  "Who ever it is, telling them we are just about to eat and it will have to wait."

   Pete came into the room and sat in the seat next to Will.  He gave his older brother a careful glance.  "Jack," he started.

   "Not at my dinner table," Jack stopped him picking up the bowl of noodles.

   The conversation went silent as each would look over at the other from time to time to try and gauge what the other was thinking.

   When Meg had reached the door, she was both surprise and happy to find her best friend Roxanne standing there wearing unusually modest cloths for her.  She wore a pale gray dress that almost hung to her ankles and a heavy navy blue sweeter under her full-length coat.

   "This is a new look," Meg smiled in her usually perky way to her friend who seemed to have the weight of the world on her shoulders.  "Does this have anything to do with why you were not in any of your afternoon classes and didn't show up for Bandstand?"

   "I'm in trouble, Meg," Roxanne pulled a stray string of hair from her face.  "Sister Mary Margaret saw my slit skirt at school today and called me into her office.  She had them call my mother out of work and she had to come to the school and listen as the Sister went over my entire school life's digressions."

   Meg pulled her friend into the hall.  "So what, it's not like your mother doesn't know that you been in trouble in the past," Meg frowned.

   "Meg, it's time to eat!" Helen's voice called from the dinning room.

   "I'll be right there, Mom," Meg called back.  "Roxanne and I are going over a homework assignment."

   "Meg," Roxanne almost seemed on the verge of tears.  "My Mom promised Sister Mary Margaret that I would no longer be a problem to her.  At first I didn't know what she meant, but when we got back home, she said that she didn't think she could handle me anymore."

   With a grimace, Meg asked, "What does that mean?"

   "She wants to send me away," Roxanne said looking deep into her friend's eyes.

   "Roxanne," Jack's voice called out.  "Take your jacket off and join us for dinner before Meg's plate get cold."

   "We'll be right there," Meg called back.

   "Roxanne," she took her arms and leaned in close.  "What does your mother mean that she wants to send you away?"

   "My Grand mother's sister Ester," Roxanne looked away with tears flowing.  "She lives up in Boston, and my Mom wants me to go live with her for a while.  It seems that even though Aunt Ester has never had children of her own, she is very discipline with other people's problem children."

   "Boston?" Meg repeated.  "That's like a thousand miles away."

   "Closer to five hundred," Patty's voice came from the doorway a few steps away.

   "Patty," Meg gave her a dirty look.  "Were you listening in?"

   "Dad told me to come get you so he could say the blessing," she replied looking at Roxanne.  "Are you really going away?"

   "I may have to," Roxanne wiped away some tears.  "My Mom is really mad at me right now, and she said she doesn't know what else to do."

   "She'll calm done," Meg tried to console her.  "When everything settles down, you can talk to her and tell her that you are sorry, and everything will be okay."

   Roxanne forced a small smile for a second, and then with a deflated tone, she spoke, "I have my bus ticket and the plans are made.  I leave Friday after school."

   Meg and Patty were both lost for words as Meg wrapped her arms around her best friend.  "We'll figure something out," she said softly.  "You are not going anywhere."

   For most of the ride across the rainy city of Philadelphia, Richie had remained silent and watched out the window as the building and streets passed bye.  Each streetlight was a fussy glow against the damp windows, and from time to time they would see a brave soul who had ventured out on the cool night.  His mind wondered and his thoughts drifted as the scenery flashed past.  In the previous months, he had learned to be a lone creature and did not want to long for the comfort of conversation.  His nature had become that of a loner, and he was not even aware that he had not spoken for over ten minutes when JJ decided to break the silence.

   "So what do you think of seeing Philadelphia again after being away for so long?" His voice seemed to echo in the silence of the large seating compartment.

   "A lot has changed, Jackie," Richie said softly still glaring out the window.  "Some for the better, but not all for the good."

   "Everyone keeps talking about how the city is setting a trend for the future of this country," JJ smiled sharing his line of sight between looking at his uncle and watching the streets before him.  "But I guess we have always been the future of the country ever since the Declaration of Independence was signed here."

   "Independence Hall," Richie nodded with a grin. "I went there a few times when I was a kid.  Your father and I use to like running through the courtyard over to the Liberty Bell.  He use to joke about how all we needed was a big vise grip and some Elmer's Glue, and we could have that thing up and running in no time."

   "Really," JJ chuckled as he drove.  "Dad never told me that story.  You guys must have had a million stories like that when you were growing up."

   "Jack and I had allot of fun, Jackie," Richie kept grinning as his eyes looked over at him.  "You remind me of him when he was your age."

   "Really?" JJ shot him another glance.  "I always thought I took more after Mom."

   "The hair and the complexion maybe," Richie noted.  "But you have your father's good looks, and dashing personality.  I'm sure you are fighting off the girls just like he had to."

   "I wouldn't say that," JJ laughed.  "But I had a girlfriend or two in my time."

   "I'm sure you do," Richie agreed.  "You've grown up to be a good kid, Jackie.  I'm sorry I wasn't around to see it happen."

   "You're here now, Uncle Richie," JJ said with a serious brow.  "Maybe we will have a chance to make up for some of the lost time."

   Richie sat silently for a few minutes.

   "Are you going to wait for a few days like Mom asked?" JJ broke the silence again.

   "Yeah," Richie took in a deep breath.  "I promised Helen, and I have never been able to deny her what ever she wanted."

   "I'm glad," JJ smiled taking a long stare over at him.  "Maybe we can go and get a burger some time while you are in town."

   "I think we can do that," Richie nodded with a big grin.  "I think I would really like that."

   "Is this it?" JJ said leaning forward to look out the windshield.

   "The Belmont," Richie read.  "This is it Jackie."

   JJ slid the car into a parking place a few yards from the door and Richie looked over at him with surprise as to why he hadn't driven up to the entrance.

   "Is something wrong, Jackie?" Richie asked with concern.

    "There might be," JJ reached back and pulled out his wallet.  He unfolded it and pulled out a small metal medallion barely the size of an oblong nickel.  The medal was pressed with the image of a young teenage boy holding a Bible and around the edges on either side of the figure were the words 'St. Dominic Savio.'  

   The sight of the long forgotten object took Richie's breath away.  "Oh my God," he finally gasped.  "You still have that?"

   JJ turned slightly and held up the medal for his uncle who took it into his grasp.  "It was first thing I ever remember you giving me, and the very last thing I kept."

   Holding it to the dim light, a tear rolled down Richie cheek.  "After all this time."

   "I never told Mom or Dad I still had it, and I hid it from them so they wouldn't get rid of it like they did all the memories we had of you," JJ explained.  "After Mom would come up and make sure I said my evening prayers, for the first few years after you left, I would pull that out of my secret hiding place and I would say an extra prayer for God to watch over you and to one day bring you home."

   "Jackie," Richie looked up at his nephew who was fighting back his own tears.  "I can't believe you would still have this and it would be so close to you."

   "I always have it in my wallet under my picture of the family," JJ said.  "I can still remember the day you gave it to me.  You said he was the patron saint of boys and children, and he would look out for me because he was always the protector of good and Godly children just as himself."

   "He was also known as the saint of Juvenile delinquents," Richie chuckled.  "One time when he was away at boarding school, two boys had filled the stove with snow and garbage on a cold winter day, and when he was accused of the crime, he never spoke up even though he had not done it and was punished.  When they later found out that he was innocent, he was asked why he didn't speak up, he said that he was imitating Jesus who remained silent during his persecution and crucifixion."

   "He was born in Italy in the mid eighteen hundreds and was known as a great prayer and remarked that he wanted to be tailored into a new suite for the Lord," JJ remembered back.  "He would always be praying for the other kids because he was afraid that they would fall into sin."

   "Yeah," Richie sniffed.  "You remembered everything I told you."

   "I remember you said that he died when he was fifteen," JJ went on.  "But he wasn't afraid because he was looking forward to seeing Heaven."

   "His last words were," Richie stammered past his tears. " ' I am seeing such wonderful things.'" He paused for a moment.  " Earlier in his life he said, 'I am not capable of doing big things, but I want to do everything, even the smallest things, for the greater glory of God.'"

   "I remember all of that," JJ remarked with a sniff.  "I was barely five years old, but I remember everything you said. I remember all of our times together."

   "That means the world to me, Jackie," Richie brushed away a tear.  "I thought of you so often after I had left, but I could not bring myself to pick up a phone and just give you a call to say 'Hi'.  I was afraid that your Dad wouldn't let me through, and I would only make matters worst."

   After having turned away for a minute, JJ turned back with red eyes, but they were dry now.  "This is a new day, Uncle Richie," JJ said with a week smile.  "So I want you to take this medal, and hold onto it for a few days."

   "I can't take this from you, Jackie," Richie protested.

   "I'm not giving it to you," he returned with the same soft smile.  "I want you to promise me that before you leave town, you will return that medallion to me personally.  You can not leave without giving me back the only thing I still have from you, and without saying goodbye to my face this time."

   Richie looked at the silver object for a long moment, and then wrapped his hand entirely around it.  "I promise, Jackie."

   They both leaned over and gave each other a long hug.  "I'm glad your back, Uncle Richie."

   "Me too, kiddo," Richie grinned pulling away.

   JJ drove the car the last few yards and stopped before the front door of the Philadelphia Belmont Hotel.  A uniformed dressed doorman opened the car door and helped Richie to climb out.  Richie leaned his head back in and winked at JJ.

   "See you in a few days, Jackie" he said with a large smile. 

   "I'll be waiting," JJ said back, and then Richie closed his door and stepped away from the curb.  We watched with an aching heart as his favorite nephew drove off into the night.

   Once JJ was out of sight, Richie turned around and found that even though the doorman had returned to his post, he was not alone.  A tall stately looking man with the same handsome Pryor features from his brothers with the dark hair and square jaw stood before him.  His temples were slightly grayer than the others, and his build a little more filled out.  It did not take long for Richie to recognize the man.

   "So Ted," he greeted his eldest brother.  "To what do I owe the honor of you drudging all the way down town?"

   "I heard you were back in town, and I have as little time for you now as I always have, Richie," Ted spoke coldly with a scowl.  "So I'll make it quick and easy.  How much will it take to get you out of town this time?"

   Richie did not say a word, but simply stared up at his brother with a frown of disapproval.

**To Be Continued:**

Author's notes:

Thank you to any and all who have taken the time to read this story.  I hope I am making it worth your while with all the trouble I seem to be having getting onto Fan Fiction .com these last few days.

To Sarah:  Thank you for the kind words.  I hope you will continue to read.

To Danielle:  Thank you for your raves, and I would be happy to read your stories if I could figure out which ones they are.  There are a million listed Danielle on this sight, and American Dreams has a Dani which I read both stories and have liked, so if you could help me pin point your by logging in before your next review, (If you choose to give one.) then that will help a bundle.

To Sevhevcracksmeup:  Thank you for the rave.  I do try hard to please you and myself, so I hope the rest of the story is to your liking as well.  Please keep the comments coming.

Thank you all again and I look forward to more reviews.

PS: I have been trying to post this chapter for days, and have not been able to.  SO if you are reading this, I am sorry, and I will have the next chapter up ASAP.


	3. Chapter Three

He Ain't Heavy: Chapter Three 

   Meg Pryor had been able to rush her best friend Roxanne Bojarski up to her room in the Pryor house where they could have a heart to heart girls talk in private.  Of course the fact that Roxanne had been crying uncontrollably for the last ten minutes, and Meg did not want her parent to hear her frantic cries also had a large part in the impromptu dash and stash.  The girls had made it up stairs with out incidence until Meg realized that her sister Patty, who had witness the whole 'outburst', was still on the lower level of the house with her parents.

   "Roxanne," Meg tried to calm her friend while stuffing her hands full of Kleenex from the box next to her bed.  "It's not as bad as you might think."

   "That's easy for you to say, Meg," Roxanne sobbed.  "You're not the one being sent away to live with your evil grand aunt."

   "Come on, Roxanne," Meg gushed.  You don't know that your mother's aunt is evil," Meg tried to assure her.  "For all you know, she might be a kindly older lady."

   "I'm being sent there because I am a discipline problem, Meg," she shot her friend a course look.  "And her name is Ester.  That's an evil name."

   Meg pulled her close to her shoulder.  "Well, maybe your Mom will change her mind when she has time to cool down a little.  She has threatened you before."

   "But she had Sister Mary Margaret transfer my school records up to Boston so I will already be registered for school on Monday."

   By this point Meg was at a lost as to what else to tell her.  It was true that Mrs. Bojarski had threaten to use harsh methods to get Roxanne in line before, but she had never played the 'grand aunt' card on her daughter before.  Most of her angry warning had been just that, warnings, but she had never actually acted on her anger.  This was a crisis that Meg had no idea how to handle.

   The two girls set up at attention when they heard a gentle knocking at the closed door.  It took Meg a second to regain her breath, and she slumped in her seat as she called out, "Go away Patty.  We need time to think."

   "It's not Patty," Helen Pryor, Meg's mother's voice came from the hall.  "Patty told me what happen and I thought I would come up and see if there were anything I could do to help."

   Anger came across Meg's face as she thought about her nosey sister butting in where she didn't belong, again.  She was able to compose herself enough and rose from the bed to cross the room and open the door for her Mom.

   "Hi," Meg said sheepishly as she opened the door to her worried mother.  "We were kinda hoping that Patty would have kept her mouth shut for once."

   "I'm glad she told me," Helen gave her a half stern eye.  "There is no telling how much you might have made things worst if I wasn't here to watch you."

   "Oh Mrs. Pryor," Roxanne ran across the room into Helen's arms.  "What am I going to do?"

   "See," Patty stood outside the door as her mother entered the room.  "I knew Mom would be able to help."  She took a step forward only to be met with Megs hand in her face.  With a slight shove, Meg pushed her back into the hall and slammed the door on her sister.

   "That was just rude!" Patty's voice came from the hall as Meg watch her mother sharing a moment with her best friend.

   "What am I going to do, Mrs. Pryor?"  She cried.  "My Mom is dead set on sending me away."

   "There, there," Helen patted her on the back.  "Your mother is upset right now, Roxanne.  This is not the first time you have gotten into trouble, so she's just trying to find a way to get you to stop doing all these things that can get you thrown out of East Catholic."

   "But I can't help myself," Roxanne insisted as they sat down on the edge of the bed.  "It's like I see those black and white habits the nuns wear, and I just have to do something that will ruffle their perfect little pleats."

   "I'm sure you could stop if you really tried," Helen raised an eyebrow.  "But we can work on that once we solve the first problem."

   Roxanne stopped crying and leaned forward on her knees away from Helen.  "I don't know what to do.  She's not listening to reason this time."

   Helen sat of straight and sighed.  "I guess I could always have a talk with her."

   "You would do that?" Roxanne beamed back with a big smile.

   "Yeah," Meg repeated.  "You would do that?"

   "Of course," Helen gave them each a look of 'yea of little faith'.  "I'm sure your mother would listen to me."

   "That would be great!" Roxanne threw her arms around her gain.

   "But," Helen held her back.

   "But what?" The two girls asked at the same moment.

   "I am sure that there will have to be some new ground rules set," Helen explained with a stern face.  "I don't know what they are just yet, but once your mother and I have worked them out," she turned strongly to Roxanne.  "You will be required to live by those guidelines with no chance of changing them."

   "I will, Mrs. Pryor," Roxanne nodded her head with joy.

   Helen gave her a cautious smile.

   "See," Meg grinned to her. "I told you my Mom would know what to do." 

   Across town, Ted Pryor had convince his long lost younger brother Richie Pryor into the hotel's bar to have a drink while they talked away from the rainy streets out front where they had met up.  Once at the bar, Ted waved the bartender over where he gave his order of a beer.

   "What will you have, Richie," Ted asked with a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

   "A Pepsi please," Richie smiled at the bartender.

   The attendant nodded and walked off to fill the orders.

   "You still avoiding the booze, little brother?" Ted asked tossing a peanut in his mouth.

   "I was never much for the spirits, Ted," Richie said trying not to make eye contact.  "Even when I preformed the services with the sacramental wines, I only took as small a sip as I had to, and that was all the alcohol I could handle."

   "Well, suite yourself," Ted shrugged.  "I guess you can't go wrong with the drink of the new generation."

   Richie gave him a sarcastic smile in return.  "So why don't we get to the point, Ted," he started.  "Why are you here?  You couldn't care less when I actually lived here."

   "I came because I meant what I said outside," Ted said spinning his stool to face him.  "How much money do you need this time and how long will it keep you out of town."

   "You sanctimonious jerk," Richie cussed shaking his head.  "Who do you think you are by showing up here and offering me a pay off to leave town? I came here to see Jack and his family and maybe Pete, but you never even crossed my mind."

   "Oh come on Richie," Ted snarled.  "Wasn't it me you ran to the last time you needed money when you were in town?"

   "And I sent you back every penny you let me borrow with interest," Richie shot back as the bartender placed their drinks before them.  He waited until the young man was gone, and then he continued.  "I needed the money, and I needed it fast, and you were the only person I knew with enough cash on hand that would give me a fresh start elsewhere.  I hated having to rely on you, but I had just left the priesthood and had no job, so you were my only chance."

   "I did it for Pop, you know," Ted poured his bottle into the tall glass.  "When you called asking for the loan, I called him and asked why it was so important for you to leave town in such a hurry."

   "Okay, fine," Richie ran his finger around the rim of the glass.  "So you know my dirty little secrets.  I'm surprise that you didn't twist them around and then go running to Jack with what you knew.  It might have been ideal for you to discredit me in his eyes."

   "Jack has always been important to you, Richie," he took a sip.  "He and I never really saw eye to eye on your place in the Pryor family."

   "You never saw eye to eye with Jack on anything, Ted," Richie took a quick gulp of his soda.  "You were half the reason Pop treated Jack like a dirt rag compared to you.  You were always the promise child.  The golden boy who could do no wrong, and Jack could never live up to that as much as he tried."

   "I can seem to remember you trying to win over the folks, too," Ted returned.  "In fact, up until your little falling out with her over the church, I would have to say you were pretty much Mom's favorite."

   "Meanwhile Jack and Pete got shut out," Richie remarked with disgust in his own fortune.  "Pete became a hard nosed little punk, but Jack still tried to win the old man over and to this day still idolized him even after he was treated so badly."

   "Jack has also been a hard one to figure out," Ted sighed.  "You and I have always been the flip sides of the same coin.  The strong successful so called evil side to the weak failure believed angel child who ended up being the one who broke his own parents hearts."

   "Still cold and heartless Ted," Richie could not help but grin at their reflections in the mirror.  "Well I don't care what you think.  And I don't want your money."

   "Sounds good to me," Ted nodded. "So when are you going back to Lynchburg Virginia?"

   Richie eyed his brother carefully.  "How do you know where I've been living?"

   "Pop told me you had called a few times trying to talk, but he was always smart enough to hang up on you," Ted explained taking another drink.  "I also got the phone call from the hospital last year."

   This revelation startled Richie even more as he stared into his eyes.  "What hospital?"

   "The one in Lynchburg where you were rushed after the car crash," Ted said eying him back.  

   "Why would they have called you?" Richie asked with alarm.

   "Think about it, Richie," Ted smiled.  "They must have had your records on file, and with Mom and Dad dead, and your own family gone, as the oldest sibling, I was the next of kin.  The word was that you were really touch and go there for a while."

   Richie's head sank.  

   "I never told anyone," Ted told him placing a hand on his back.  "I didn't see the point of upsetting Jack and Pete with bad news about a brother who didn't even care enough to call from time to time."

   "If you were so close with Pop," he snarled.  "Then you know why I couldn't call, Ted.  Pop told me to stay away, and I did.  You even blocked me from coming back for the funerals.  I was not even allowed into the funeral home, and I had to watch the burial from outside of the locked gates."

   "It was Pop's final wishes," Ted down the last of his bear.

   "My God," Richie buried his face in his hands while his elbows leaned on the bar.  "Did he really hate me that much?"

   "You went against the church, Richie," Ted waved his empty bottle.  "Your returning even for the funerals could have been a bad mark on his church."

   "I told the truth, Ted," Richie gritted his teeth in anguish.  "Why was I the one being punished for telling the truth?"

   Ted let out a chuckle.  "It's the catholic church for crying out loud.  They aren't interested in the truth.  Your little revelation was too much for them to handle, and they had to hide it and you.   Besides, what they do to others was never our concern"

   Swaying his head side to side, Richie took a big lung full of air.  "You don't know the half of it.  I never wanted to hurt them, Ted.  I swear to God I didn't want Mom and Pop to be upset by what I did."

   "All water under the bridge," Ted said nonchalantly.  "What's important now are you not digging up old dead corpses just to try and rebuild relationships that don't exist any more."

   Richie sat silent watching the carbonated bubbles in his drink float to the top.

   "Come on Richie," Ted patted him on the back.  "You know what I am telling you is all for the best of everyone concerned.  Just get out of Dodge before anyone else is hurt by your little tirade."

   "I can't do that Ted," Richie sighed with wet eyes.  "If you know about the car wreck, then you know why I need to be here now.  I need to find something on this Earth to be connected to, or so help me God, I will snap."

   "Then find it in Lynchburg," Ted leaned into his ear.  "Because what you want, is no longer in Philadelphia."

   "Who or what gives you the right to try and dictate my life for me?" Richie looked at him with anger.  "We are adults now, Teddy," he let the name hang heavy on his tongue as if it were poison.  "We are all responsible for what we do on our own.  Mom and Pop are gone, and there's nothing to protect them from any further."

   Ted shook his head with a wry smirk as he sipped on his bottle.  "You're a stupid fool little brother," he sighed.  "Your being here is only going to hurt you more in the long run."

   "I have nothing to loose," he turned away again.

   "You have your little deluded dreams, to loose, Richie," Ted shook his head again.  "In your mind you think that somehow everyone has been pining after you all these years, and some day they will all welcome you back into their homes and their hearts."

   Richie didn't say a word.  He just took another drink and watched Ted from the corner of his eye.

   "Didn't it ever accrue to you that in the whole twelve years that you been gone, that not one person has even thought to look you up or try and find out where you were?" Ted goaded at him.  "For crying out loud, Richie, even when Mom and Pop both passed, Jack never even considered picking up a phone and giving you a call to let you know."

   He paused and took a drink giving him time to think on it.  "I saw you at the cemetery the day Pop died," Ted added.  "We all know that I would never bother coming up and talking with you, but don't you think if I saw even when I wasn't looking, then Jack would have seen you too?  I know for a fact he was looking.  But he still didn't approach you."

   Sloughing over the bar, Richie wrapped his hand around his cold drink.  "Why are you telling me these things?" He grunted.  "Why are you trying to hurt me so bad?"

   "Because little brother," Ted put a hand on each shoulder and leaned in.  "You may think I'm a cold hearted SOB, but you know what I am telling you and asking you to do, will save you a whole lot of heart ache in the end."

   It was taking all the inner strength Richie had to not loose control of his grief as his brother slid off his stool and dropped two-dollar bills on the counter for the drinks.  "My offer for the money expires in forty eight hours little man," Ted spoke coldly.  "That should give you enough time to mull it over and come to the conclusion that I am right."  He leaned in to his ear one final time.  "I'm always right, Richie, or didn't Pop ever teach you that?"

   By the time Richie regained himself enough to sit up and spin his stool around, all he saw was the tail end of Ted's gray over coat slipping out the door.  He sat silently as his eyes drifted to the floor.

   Back at the Pryor home, Helen had convinced Roxanne to stop her crying long enough for them all to go down stairs and have supper.  Patty had to be sternly warned not to question her on anything while they enjoyed their meal, while Jack, Helen and Pete avoided her questions in regards to the mysterious new uncle in their lives.

    After the meal was finished, Roxanne and Meg helped Helen to clear the table and do the dishes while Patty was sent away to do her studies as an attempt to get her away from being able to pry into anymore touchy maters and Will went to his room to read his favorite Curious George book.  Jack and Pete sat in front of the television watching a show that neither had any particular interest in, but they felt it was better than having to have a heart to heart about the brother they had hoped was long forgotten.

   Pete was the first to break the silence after a long half hour. "So how is the shop doing these days?"

   "It's picking up again." Jack commented from his favorite chair.  "Now that tax time is over, people are spending money a little more freely again."

   "That's good," Pete nodded.  "I heard my chief was in the market for a new color set.  Maybe I'll send him your way."

   "You do that, Pete," Jack leaned further back into his seat.  "Maybe I can cut him a deal if he can get me a slide on a few parking tickets."

   "I'll work on it," Pete nodded again taking a sip of his beverage.  He placed it back on the table coaster and the two got quiet again.  After a few minutes of pointless commercials, Pete turned back to his brother again.  "So are we going to pretend he's not back in our lives again?"

   Jack raised his eyes to heaven.  "Oh come on Pete," he sighed.  "All I want is a nice quiet night away from the madness that has been my whole day.  Is that asking too much?"

   "I don't know Jack," Pete shrugged.  "I'm trying to follow your lead here, but you haven't given me much to go on.  I'm assuming it's only a matter of time before Richie looks me up, and I am wondering how we are going to handle this as a family."

   "Handle it however you want," Jack waved his right hand.  "I can't tell you not to see your own brother if you want to, and I won't force him on you either."

   "But I want to know where you stand, Jack," Pete leaned forward and turned down the volume on the set.  "You know I have always stood with you where both Richie and Ted are concern."

   "Ted has nothing to do with anything that happen today," Jack reminded him.  "You built up your own little dislike for him all on your own.  And we all agreed that Richie was a mute topic after he left.  So don't make me the leader of your own little Pryor hater's club."

   Pete put his folded hands to his mouth for a minute and rested his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in thought.  Then after an uncomfortable silence, he moved his hands.  "Richie is my brother too," he spoke softly.  "But you are the one who was always there for me, and I don't want to effect what we have in any way."

   "You won't Pete," Jack insisted.  "If you want to go see Richie, then I won't stop you or make you feel bad for doing it, but don't think that I will be running over to his hotel room for some family reunion any time soon.  I can't forget what he did to Mom and Pop so easily."

   "That's what I don't understand in all of this, Jack," Pete said with a heavy sigh.  "What was it that he did that was so bad?  So he became a priest and found out he wasn't cut out for the job so he quit.  It had nothing to do with Mom or Pop.  So there dream for him was gone, he was still there.  Why did they turn their backs on him?"

   Jack eyes became large as he glared over at his brother.  "You know what he did, Pete.  He hurt allot of people by starting that scandal."

   "Hurt?" Pete repeated.  "My line of thought would be that he saved allot more people than he hurt.  He hurt people's egos of what they thought was going on and what the church should be, but in turn, he saved allot of innocent little children."

   "He almost brought Saint Catherine's down around the communities ears, Pete," Jack's voice was now in the range of a shouting match.  "He wrecked havoc in our church, and then he ran."

   "And dozens, maybe hundreds of little boys were safe because of his courage," Pete said trying to remain calm.

   With the adrenalin flowing through him, Jack had to stand up and pace for a while.  He stood before Pete as he thought out loud.  "Nothing was happening there.  Nothing ever happen that Richie had to save anyone from."

   "Yes there was," Pete lowered is head.  "There was something there that caused the two of you to insist that I not become an alter boy even after I begged Pop to let me try it out.  It was enough that neither of you would quit to open a new spot even after you had both told me you detested the job."

   Jack's eyes were ablaze again as he looked down at him.  "Stop it Pete," he growled in a low huff.  "There was nothing there."

   "Yes there was," Pete stood up defiantly staring his brother down.  "His name was father O'Malley, and he was there for nearly twenty years until he was sent away to Canada for some undisclosed reason, and he returned to Saint Catharine's about six months before Richie decided he could no longer be a priest and began his slow decent out of the church."

   "You don't know what you're talking about," Jack insisted.

   "I was a teenager the second time he was sent away after Richie turned him in to the Arch Diocese of Philadelphia, again," Pete reminded him.  "I was old enough to hear the rumors and to know what they were talking about."

   Jack turned away.

   "We have a name for guys like O'Malley down at the station, Jack," Pete spoke over his shoulder.  "We call them Pedophiles.  Child Molesters."

   "Father O'Malley never molested anyone, Pete," Jack turned with a scream.  "That was some sick rumor perpetuated by own selfish brother who was looking for an easy out to the priesthood."

   "My God, Jack," Pete gave a brief chuckle of disgust.  "You of all people are the last person who could say that.  You know what that sick…" he stopped himself short of the word.  "You know what that animal did to Richie when you were both alter boys."

   "Stop it right there," Jack pointed his finger in Pete's face.

   "No Jack," Pete shook his head.  "It's about time someone said it out loud.  If you won't, then I will."

   "Don't!" Jack screamed.

   "Jack!" Pete got close up to his face.  "O'Malley did it to you too!"

   Raising a fist, Jack grabbed his brother's collar and held his waving hand over his face. "He.." Jack stuttered.  Then, with out warning, he released Pete and swung around raising his right foot kicking the folding TV table that held their drinks up into the air smashing it against the wall four feet away.

   "He never touched me!" Jack turned back.

   Helen heard all the commotion from the kitchen and sent the girls up to Meg's room in the opposite direction from the living room.  She then rushed in to see the two men standing in some type of standoff.

   "Jack?" She questioned as she saw the mess they had made.

   "Get out of my house, Pete," Jack said with a snarl.  "I can't stand the sight of you right now."

   "You can get rid of me like Pop did to Richie," Pete said back in a much calmer voice.  "But it will never change what O'Malley did to you and too Richie.  He was sick and he used you like so many other little boys who only wanted to be alter boys."

   "My goodness, Pete," Helen spoke up standing next to her husband.  "What kind of stories are you trying to tell?"

   "The same truths that got Richie thrown out of town by our old man," Pete answered her question.  "The same truths that Jack has been hiding all these years, Helen.  O'Malley preyed on little boys for his own sexual needs."

   "Pete," Helen cautioned him.  "We have all herd those rumors, but nothing had ever been proven before O'Malley retired and the whole matter was dropped."

   "Hey," JJ entered from the kitchen removing his coat.  "What's going on?"

   "This has nothing to do with you JJ," Jack said.  "Why don't you go upstairs and help Will get ready for bed."

   Pete continued as JJ walked towards the hall to the steps.  "It was Richie's revelations about father O'Malley that got him in so much trouble with Pop.  That was the dirty mark he had made on the church that Pop could not forgive him for."

   "You don't know anything, Pete," Jack waved his hand in disgust at him.

   JJ stopped at the door and listened in.

   "You asked me earlier tonight about what I heard the night Richie decided to leave town when he talked to Mom and Pop," Pete reminded him.  "Well I heard everything, Jack.  I heard what O'Malley had done to the two of you, and what he was still doing to the other boys who were in the church when Richie was a priest."

   "Pop never said anything about it," Jack said harshly.

   "Pop was in denial about his church and the great Father O'Malley that's why Richie had to tell, but he took that priest's word over his own son's and never even bothered to check the facts with you," Pete told him pointing his own finger now.  "Richie was heart sick and had to come out and tell the truth and he never wanted to reveal about you and him, but Pop insisted on knowing how he could be so sure about what O'Malley was doing with those boys, and he finally spoke up, but they tried to shut him up instead.  Richie said he even tried to ignore it at first, but there was one other victim laying in wait that Richie could not let father O'Malley get to."

   "Who?" Helen found herself so taken by the story, that she asked before she had even thought about thinking twice.

   Pete did not say a word, but turned his head slowly towards the far corner of the room at the entrance that lead to the stairwell where JJ was standing silently listening with great interest.  It took a moment for it to sink in, but then Helen was the first to react.

   "Oh my Lord," she gasped covering her mouth with her hands.  A tear rolled down her cheek as she spoke the name.  "JJ?"

   Pete nodded once ending with his eyes closed and his face towards the floor.

   "You do not mean that," Jack grabbed his brother by the shirt collar again.  "That is a bold face lie."

   Helen rushed across the room looking into her son's eyes taking him by the arms.

   "I'm sorry Jack," Pete gushed as his eyes began to well up.  "I didn't have the heart to tell you before, but I figured if you are going to spend the rest of your life hating the guy, then you should at least know the whole story as to why Richie sacrificed himself for JJ."

   Jack pounded a soft fist into his brother's chest.  "Tell me that you are making this all up, Pete," he insisted softly with a groan.

  "I can't Jack," Pete looked away.  "O'Malley knew that JJ had his heart set on becoming an alter boy when he was old enough, and O'Malley was trying to push it through early, because he wanted another Pryor son on the team."

   His hands started shaking as he still held tightly to Pete.  "I would never have let that happen," Jack snarled.  "I would have never let O'Malley get his hands on my son."

   "And Richie felt that he had to make sure he wouldn't either," Pete explained.  "He told Pop that he didn't want you to have to relive those nightmares like he had when he first saw O'Malley again, so he stopped it the only way he could."

   "By giving up his carrier to save my son and risk loosing his family in the same turn," Jack finished the thought.  "He couldn't speak against the church and remain a priest."

   "The truth cost him everything," Pete added.  "Because Pop believed O'Malley and chose the church over his own sons."

   The realization that his father had not only denied his brother's abusive past but his as well hit Jack hard as he looked up into Pete's face.  The man he had idolized his entire life had known of his greatest shame and hurt, but had never acknowledge it to him or anyone.

   "I don't understand," JJ spoke up.  "What is this all about?  What did that Father O'Malley want with me?"

   "JJ," Helen put her hands on his cheeks.  "It doesn't matter now.  Richie made sure it didn't happen."

   Jack and Pete watched from across the room as she wrapped her arms around her son.  After a few seconds, a look came across his face as if a light bulb had come on; he had finally pieced the puzzle together.

   "Oh my God," he fell forward even further into his mothers arms as the fear began to flow through him with out warning.  "Oh my God," was the only response he could utter as Jack rushed across the room to hold him up along with his mother.  The fear of what could have been hit JJ hard and he began shaking uncontrollably.

   "It's okay, Jackie," Jack spoke softly to his son as they held tightly to each other.  "No one will ever hurt you like that," he forced the tears back. "This time I can promise it."

   The hotel room was not warm or inviting like the Pryor home, but Richie Pryor knew that this was where he would have to stay.  The facts may have been bleak, but in truth was he had no where to be or anyone to rush off to anymore, so waiting would be okay for now.  Meanwhile his mind raced over the day's events as he began to unbuckle his brace from around his waist.  The whole apparatus was bulky and uncomfortable, but the doctors in both Lynchburg and Charlottesville had both warned him that these mettle devices would be a part of his life for the foreseeable future. For all intended purposes, they were keeping hold of his body as he attempted to regain a hold on normal life again.  So with great effort and care, he removed them and after several minutes, he settled pack against propped pillows and tried to get comfortable.

   The idea of comfort had become a state of mind rather than of body in the time since his accident, but Richie had learn to make the best of the constant nagging pain, and had even learn to live with the discomfort and function without the hands full of pain pills each day. He even learned to find enough ease to fall into a restless sleep most nights.  What the pain did not do for his missed sleep, the memories and bad dreams of the accident that brought them about only made up the difference.  

   Tonight, as he took slow breaths waiting for the sharp stabbing pains to dissipate from all the movement he caused releasing the restraints, he knew that this would be another of the sleepless nights, only the memories that would haunt him would go further back in time than any he had shared in the last year.  He knew the haunting face of reverend O'Malley would again rear it's ugly head in his minds eye should he be able to drift into a slumber.  His nightmare would be accompanied by the longing to be loved again by those he had once loved more than he ever thought possible.

   Settling in for a long night, Richie reached over for the only entertainment this low rent hotel room would afford, and listen to the soft gentle sounds of Andy Williams as he allowed his mind to drift to the painful past and hoping to get the nightmares over quickly.

   Across town, Jack got up from his chair in the living room where he had sat for the last few hours in complete silence nursing a drink.  He made his way slowly into the kitchen where Helen had busied herself with the cleaning choirs, which were her excuse since she did not want to be too far should he need her.

   "Jack?" She turned from the sink where she wiping down the water from her cleaning tasks.  "Can I get you something?"

   He walked with his hands in his pockets.  His shirt was unbuttoned the first three slots down and un-tucked revealing his tee shirt.  "No," he said softly.  "I just wanted to let you know that you can stop worrying about me.  I'm going up to bed."

   She put her hands on both of his arms.  "Things will be better in the morning," she kissed his cheek.

   "No they won't," he gave her a half smile.  "But thank you for thinking so." He kissed her warmly on the lips.

   "I'll be up in few minutes," she told him as he walked pass.  "I just want to finish up."

   "Don't be to long," he called back as he continued his trek.

   Meanwhile, JJ had just finished his shower and had thrown on a clean pair of pajama bottoms, tee shirt and white gym socks and made his way back to his room with a towel wrapped around his shoulders wiping his short hair as he navigated around the dark room.  Just as he rested his right knee on his own bed, he heard a rustling from Will's slumbered a few feet away.  His younger brother was having a bad dream as his arms and legs began flailing around and he kept mumbling the word, "No."

   Quickly, JJ sat on the side of Will's bed and shook his gently awake.  "Hey Thrill," he called softly.  "It's okay, it's just a dream."

   "JJ," Will bolted up as best he could wrapping his tiny arms around JJ's neck.

   "It's okay, Thrill," JJ, returned the hug.  "It's only a dream.  You're awake now."

   "Thank you, JJ," Will cried softly.  "I was scared.  He was after me."

   "Who?" JJ asked with concern.

   "I don't know," Will said slightly muffled into JJ's shirt.  "A big bad man was chasing down the hall at school, and no matter how fast I tried to run, he kept getting closer and I couldn't get away."

   "It's okay now," JJ held him tighter patting his head.  "No one is going to hurt you."

   "You won't let them, will you, JJ?"  He shook his head.

   "That's right buddy," JJ agreed pulling away with a smile.  "I'll always be there for you."

   "Thank you, JJ," Will wipe his tears on his pajama sleeves.

   JJ sat back a little and studied his brother.  "So what brought this on?" He asked giving his reaction a once over.  "Did you hear Dad and Uncle Pete yelling earlier?"

   "Not all of it," Will shrugged.  "I didn't mean to hear it, but I heard them talking about this mean man who hurt Daddy."

   "That was a long time ago," JJ said quickly.  "That man is gone and can't hurt anyone anymore."

   Will looked deep into his eyes.  "Are you sure?"

   "I'm sure," JJ nodded.  "There's nothing to worry about anymore."

   "I believe it if you say so," Will nodded quickly.

   "Good," JJ leaned over him gently lowering him back to the pillows.  "Now try and get some sleep."

   "I will," Will smiled nuzzling back into his blankets.

   "Good night," JJ kissed his forehead.  "Don't worry, because I'm right over here if you need me."

   As he got up and took a few steps, he heard Will call out to him.  "JJ?"

   He looked back over his shoulder tossing his towel onto a pile of dirty laundry in the corner.  "What is, buddy?"

   "Will you sleep with me tonight?" Will asked sheepishly.

   JJ sighed.  "Aren't you a little old for that, Will?"

   "Please JJ," Will's soft voice pleaded.

   Standing silent for a moment, JJ thought about his options, and decided that perhaps he didn't want to sleep in his own bed alone that night either, so he slowly turned around and made his way over to the opposite side of the bed and laid down on top of the covers next to his baby brother.

   Will turned his head and gave him a soft smile.  He then leaned back staring up at the ceiling as JJ laid on his side watching him.  After a few minutes, JJ moved closer and slipped his right arm under Will's head and pulled in closer as he rested his hand on his tiny chest.  He rested his head on the pillow next to his ear.  "Close your eyes," JJ whispered.  "No one is going to harm you, not while I'm around."

   Closing his eyes, Will set out for a peaceful night of slumber.

   In the bottom hall, Helen made sure the door was locked and began her walk up the stairs.

   Back at the Belmont, Richie reached for the knob on the bedside radio and turned up the volume to his latest favorite song as the music filled the air.

*** **NOT While I'm Around** ***

(Written by Stephen Sondheim as performed by Michael Ball**_ ^_**.)

   Helen made her way up the stares and clicked out the hall lights as she walked.

*** Nothing's going to harm you  ***

   She peaked into the first room and saw her sons sleeping in the same bed.

*** Not while I'm Around ***

   A smile crossed her face as she watched them nuzzle together.

*** Nothing's gonna harm you ***

   Will held tightly to his brother's arm draped across his chest as he slumbered.

*** No sir, not while I'm around ***

   Slowly he began to shift his body as he slept in reaction to a bad dream.

*** Demons are prowling everywhere ***

   JJ instinctively pulled him in closer placing his lips inches from his ear.

*** Nowadays ***

   "Shuussshh," JJ spoke softly as he too slept.

*** I'll send 'em howling ***

   Will stopped moving as if comforted by the sound of JJ's voice and released a sigh.

*** I don't care ***

   Helen smile sweetly as she pulled back leaving the door open just a crack.

*** I got ways ***

   A grin crossed Will's face as drifted into a pleasant sleep.

*** No one's gonna hurt you ***

   Across the hall in Patty's room, Helen saw a night-light lit by her bed.

*** No one's gonna dare ***

   Her daughter held tightly to a teddy bear long since exiled to a corner of the room.

*** Others can desert you ***

   The old tiny and dusty toy found a need for comforting once again.

*** Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there ***

   Helen leaned over and kissed her forehead softly adjusting the blankets.

*** Demons'll charm you with a smile ***

   In Meg's room, she saw Roxanne in a sleeping bag on the floor near the bed.

*** For a while ***

   Her hand was held back over her shoulder as Meg's hand hung off the bed holding it tightly.

*** But in time ***

   Helen pulled up the blankets on both young ladies with a pleasing smile.

*** Nothing can harm you ***

   She brushed the hair from Roxanne's face and could still see the streaks left by tears.

*** Not while I'm around ***

   She left the room silently.

*** Being close and being cleaver ain't like being true ***

   In her own room she found Jack sitting on the edge of the bed staring out the window at the black night sky.

*** I don't need to ***

   He kept gaze looking away as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

*** I would never hide a thing from you ***

   His mind seemed to be drifting as she watched attentively.

*** Like some ***

   He grabbed her hand with his own right hand tightly.

*** (Musical interlude builds up.) ***

   He spoke softly as the grief broke on his face.  "O'Malley told me he wouldn't touch Richie if I did what he wanted me to."

   His head sank low.  "He lied."

*** Demons are prowling everywhere ***

   Helen quickly leaned in wrapping her arms around him comfortingly.

*** Nowadays ***

   He reached back and held tightly to her as his breathing became labored.

*** I'll send 'em howling ***

   He turned his head sharply and leaned into her shoulder.

*** I don't care ***

   Helen held Jack as he cried for the first time in a very long time.

*** I have ways ***

   She could not help herself and cried with him.

*** No one's gonna hurt you ***

   Outside a car with darken headlights road slowly pass the Pryor house.

*** No one's gonna dare ***

   Ted Pryor looked up from the driver's seat at the lit room window on the second floor.

*** Others can desert you ***

   Another car drove from the opposite direction as Ted got a view of Pete's eyes looking back at him.

*** Not to worry whistle, I'll be there ***

   The two cars slowly continued their journeys in opposite direction.

*** Demons'll charm you with a smile ***

   The light in the upper window went dimmed just as they parted.

*** For a while ***

   Across town, the radio light lit the darken room near his bed.

*** But in time ***

   Richie held up the small Saint Dominic Savio medallion to the soft light.

*** Nothing can harm you ***

   His hand wrapped completely around it as he pulled it to his chest.

***Not while I'm around ***

   The tears from his eyes sparkled as the song faded.

To Be Continued 

Author's note:  ^ Okay, the song 'Not While I'm Around' was actually written in 1979 by Stephen Sondheim for his 'Sweeny Todd' musical and was sung by Angela Lansberry in the original Broadway production.  After much research on music of the time around this story, I could not find anything that fit the need and this story as well as this song did, so I decided to go ahead and use it anyway.  The version I used, of many possible versions is by Michael Ball on his 2001 CD 'Centre Stage' by Hip-O Records.  With much thanks to the staff at my local Barnes & Nobles, I found that his style of music would fit very well into this time frame, and went ahead and used it.  So forgive me for not keeping everything in its perfect time frame.  I have tried very hard with manners of speech and expressions, so placing a song that does not belong was not something I took lightly, but I think it works perfectly and I hope you will agree with its importance to the story.  

To: Kristin:  Thank you for the review.  I'm sorry that you thought the first chapter was a little long, but I felt it was important to set the story up from all the character's points of views while not rushing the story.  I think it is important for the story to dictate the needs and size of each chapter, and not the desires of author's need to make everything a quick fix.

To Banana Belle:  Thank you for your good review.  I hope each chapter will live up to your desire.

To Sarah:  Thank you for the review.  I think there will be a little more Meg as we move on here, but I always have an easier time writing anguish teen boys as appose to bubbly teen girls.  I hope you can still enjoy the story I have tried to focus on the family more than any one character, although JJ does seem to get allot more coverage than the others.

Thank you all for reading and commenting.

Phaze


	4. Chapter Four

He Ain't Heavy: Chapter Four 

   The night had come and passed with out another event for the Pryor family as each of them went about their own private business.  The air around the breakfast table was thick as they all attempted not to say anything that would bring up the discomfort each had endured the night before.  Even Patty remained remarkably less talkative as they readied themselves for school.

   Jack Pryor was the first standing ready at the back door as he called.  "Come on kids, I have to be at the store a little early to help Henry receive a shipment.  Could we please get things moving on time for once."

   Patty was the first to rush past her father to the car.  "I'm ready," she remarked as she rushed by with a smug smirk.  "I'm always ready when you want me to be."

   Jack rolled his eyes at her blatant attempt to receive 'favorite child' status again.  "Thank you Patty," he sighed reluctantly.  "Now if we could get the rest of the family out the door, we can start our day."

   "I can't find my bag of favorite marbles," Will spoke with displeasure as he approached the door.  "I left it in my lunch box last night."

   "And I put them back up in your room with the rest of your toys," Helen said as she leaned over him.  "You know sister Mary Francis doesn't want you boys playing with the marbles especially when you play to win each other's marbles."

   "Why not?" He asked as she helped him on with his jacket.

   "Because playing for the other person's property is like gambling," she said zipping up his coat.  "God doesn't like it when people gamble."

   Will tilted his head slightly.  "Then what's bingo?"

   Jack could not help snickering as he down the last of the coffee in his cup.

   Handing him his red plaid metal lunch box, she gave her son a stern raised eyebrow.  "We can talk about the church's fund raiser when you get back from school this afternoon.  Until then, you just mind your manners young man."

   "Yes Mom," he kissed her cheek.

   "Go wait in the car," Jack ushered him out the door.  "We'll be right out."

   Crossing her arms, Helen gave her husband a stern look.

   "What?" He gestured with his hands.

   "He's becoming your son more every day," she said with a raised eyebrow.

   He leaned in and kissed her sweetly.  "And you have a problem with that?"

   After they kissed, Helen pulled back and slapped his arm playfully.  "You will not be happy until your sons are men."

   Jack picked up his briefcase and stepped out the door.  "Tell JJ and the girls to get a move on," he grinned.  "I'll talk to you tonight."

   "Wait," she stopped him.  "It's Thursday."

   He looked back at her.  "Yes and tomorrow is Friday.  Why does that matter?"

   Helen looked in both directions to make sure they were alone.  "Richie is leaving tomorrow unless you tell him not to.  Have you decided if you will talk to him?"

   He lowered his head in defeat.  "I don't have time to think about this Helen.  I have a big day planned at the store, and I don't have the time to worry about my spoiled little brother right now."

   "But he'll leave," she protested.  "I know you are trying not to let him effect you, but I also know that you really want to work this out and have your little brother back."

   "Helen, please," he glanced at his watch.  "I don't have the time for this."

   "He'll be gone soon," she pushed.  "You need to decide quickly."

   "I will," he nodded.

   "When?"

   "Later," he replied.  "Right now I need to get the kids dropped off and myself to work.  JJ!" he called out one last time.  "We'll talk tonight."

   As Jack disappeared out the door, Meg walked in from the hall pulling her jacket on.  Her best friend Roxanne, who had spent the night, was shortly behind her.

   "Did you have time to sew my new blue skirt?" She asked in a rush.  

   "No," Helen frowned.  "But I promise I'll have it ready for Bandstand on Saturday."

   "Thank you, Mom," Meg kissed her cheek.  "See you later."

   After she had stepped out, Helen watched the deliberately slow Roxanne picking up the brown paper bag with her name on it off of the table where JJ's was the only remaining one.  She eyed her modest attire made up mostly of a borrow school uniform from Meg's closet.

   "Roxanne," Helen woke her from her slow daze.  "I spoke with your mother when I told her you would be spending the night here last night."

   Roxanne looked up at the elder woman.

   "We agreed to meet at the snack bar over as Woolworth's this afternoon on her lunch break," Helen told her with a kind voice.  "I think she's willing to talk about ways to keep you from having to be sent away."

   "Really?" Roxanne beamed.

   "I can't promise anything," she nodded with a smile.  "But I think she wants you to stay as much as you do."

   "Oh thank you, Mrs. Pryor," she wrapped her arms around her.  "I can't tell you how much this means to me."

   "I know," Helen, returned the embrace.  "Just try and keep out of trouble until we get everything worked out."

   Roxanne pulled away with a slightly evil eye.  "I'll try."

   They shared a small laugh as Roxanne bolted out the door just as the horn from the car echoed loudly into the kitchen.

   "JJ!" Helen yelled again.  "Your father is waiting!"

   At the last syllable of the last word, JJ came jogging into the room pulling his book bag shut.  "I know," he spoke frantically.  "I didn't sleep very well last night and I'm moving a little slower than normal today."

   She watched as he downed a glass of orange juice and swiped his lunch bag off the table as he approached the door.  "JJ," she stopped him just as he stepped pass.

   "Yeah Mom," he turned back.

   "I think what you did for Will last night was very sweet," she rolled down the collar of his letterman jacket.  "Things are hard on all of us right now, and Will needs someone he can count on when your father and I may be involved with other matters."

   "I understand," he nodded.

   She looked over his shoulder as the others jockeyed for seats in the car.  "Your father is having to deal with a lot of past pain that he has blocked out for years by Richie being here, so please don't hold anything he might say or do on the matter against him."

   "Is he," JJ glanced back.  "Is he going to talk to Uncle Richie?"

    Helen took a deep breath crossing her arms and rested on the doorframe.  "I think he wants to," she sighed.  "But Jack is a very proud man and he doesn't give in to pressure very often.  He may let this opportunity get away."

   "I made Uncle Richie promise he would not leave without saying goodbye this time," JJ told her with concern in his eyes.  "Did I do the wrong thing?"

   "No," she ran her palm across his face.  "If you need to see him, then you do what you have to, but just don't expect the same results from your father."

   The horn blared again.

   "I won't," he kissed his mother's cheek.  "I'll see you after school."

   Helen stood at the door as they all finally piled into the station wagon and it backed out of the driveway.  She turned slowly and walked back into the house when the phone started ringing.

   "Hello," she answered after rushing down the hall.

   "Helen?" Richie's voice came back.  "It's me, Rich."

   "I know," she smiled politely as if he could see her.  "If you're calling for Jack or JJ, they just drove off."

   "Oh," his frail voice came back.

   "Richie?" She questioned.  "Are you okay?  You sound tired."

   "I didn't sleep very well last night," he returned.  "I guess I had allot on my mind."

   "Yeah, I know the feeling," she agreed.  "There's a lot of that going around."

   After a long silence, his voice came back.  "Did Jack say if he was going to come by and see me today?"

   She had not wanted to be the one to tell him, and she hated being in the middle of the two brother's disagreement, but Helen knew she could not let him go on with false hope that would only hurt him worst in the end.  "Richie," she started.  "I think you should be prepared for the possibility that Jack is not going to come around very easily on this."

   "So you're saying he's not wanting to see me?" Richie asked.

   She waited to answer as long as she could, and then she said slowly, "not on this visit, Richie."

   Now it was his turn not to want to give a reply.

   "I'm sorry," Helen broke the long silence.  "I wish there were something I could say or do to change his mind, but with what happen between you and your folks and then the memories of Father O'Malley coming back to the surface, it's just a little more than Jack is willing to deal with right now."

   A loud sigh was heard over the line.  "I never meant to hurt him, Helen.  I never meant to hurt anyone."

   A tear trickled down her cheek as she could feel his pain over the phone.  "I know, Richie.  I know."

   "Well," he sighed again.  "Maybe I'll try again in another twelve years.  Thank you for everything."

   She didn't want this to happen.  Helen was not ready to let Jack and his brother give up on each other, and she knew she had to give him one last ray of hope.  "Richie," she stopped him before he hung up.  "Please don't leave with out saying goodbye to Jack.  It might help ease the way into a reunion some time in the near future if he knew you at least cared enough to say goodbye this time."

   "I do care, Helen," Richie said back with a grief stricken voice.

   "Then go by the store this afternoon," Helen suggested.  "Just to say goodbye."

   After another long moment, she could hear a noise as if he were nodding his head against the phone receiver.  "Okay Helen," he spoke softly.  "I'll do that, and thank you again for everything.  Tell the kids Uncle Richie says bye."

   As Helen hung up the phone, her heart sank in her chest as she realized that this might have been the last time she would ever hear her brother-in-law's voice again.  She allowed herself to slump down into the wooden chair next to the phone table and she cried as her hand ran across the phone's cradle.  "Oh Richie," she sobbed.  "I'm not sure Jack will be able to live with himself, this time."

   Henry Walker had just finished unloading the shipment of small portable televisions with his nephew Nathan when his some Sam made his way into the store.  The elder man gave his son a stern look as he took notice from across the store.  "Shouldn't you be on your way to school right now?"

   "I am," the soft-spoken son nodded.  "But I didn't have a chance to talk to you before you left the house this morning.  You left while I was still in the shower."

   Henry took a hanker shift from his back pocket and wiped his brow.  "I told you over dinner last night that I needed to get in early this morning since we had a truck to unload."

   "I forgot," the young handsome Sam hung his head slightly.

   "Well you better make it quick so you're not late," Henry continued.  "What do you need son?"

   "Two dollars," Sam cocked his head slightly glancing up from the corner of his eye.  "I ripped my school track uniform yesterday while I was practicing, and I need to replace it.  My scholarship doesn't cover replacement uniforms."

   Tucking his hanky back into his pocket, Henry took a deep breath and sighed disappointedly.   "You couldn't have asked me this last night?"

   "You looked tired," Sam shrugged.  "I thought you might be better in the morning."

   Rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, Henry shook his head.  "What am I going to do with you, boy?  I don't have two dollars to throw away on a school uniform.  Where am I going to get that type of money?"

   "You could ask, Jack," Nathan's voice came from a few feet away.

   "Jack, who?" Henry asked with a frown.

   "Jack Pryor, your boss," Nathan added.  "It's about time he started paying you what you are worth around here."

   "You mind your manners, boy," Henry shook his index finger.  "He is Mr. Pryor to us and he pays what he can afford."

   "While you bring in all the business," Nathan remarked.  "And I ain't no boy."

   "You haven't proven to be much of a man just yet, either," Henry commented sarcastically.  "Now when do you need this money?"

   "By Monday," Sam replied eyeing his more abrasive cousin.

   Henry shook his head.  "I'll talk with Mr. Pryor and see if he has a few odd jobs for you to do here Saturday, and then you come by and work it off."

   "I have plans Saturday," Sam protested.

   "Then you change them, son," Henry said sternly.  "I am not the one who carelessly ripped my uniform, so I am not the one who is going to replace it.  Do you understand me?"

   "Yes Sir," Sam nodded.

   "Good," Henry patted his son's shoulder.  "Now get on to school and don't be late.  I'll let you know what Mr. P says."

   Sam nodded once and then left the store.

   "Wouldn't be needing to ask the boss man for a few favors if he would just pay you what you are worth around here," Nathan started.  "Bad enough you aren't even allowed to call the man by his first name.  Mr. Pryor this and Mr. Pryor that, while all the while he don't ever call you anything but by your first name."

   "You got a problem with the way I live my life, boy?" Henry turned to him with an angry scowl.

   "I told you," Nathan snapped.  "I ain't a boy!"

   "You listen to me little man," Henry got within a foot of his face.  "I answered to the name 'Boy' for over thirty years of my life before I came to work for Mr. P, so if he wants to call me Henry while I call him by his sir name, then that is all fine and well with me.  Because I have been called some far worst things my entire life, and I will not sass my boss just because you think I should have a more militant approach."

   "If you hate being called names so much," Nathan tried to sound firm as he gazed into his uncle's eyes. "Then why do you keep calling me 'Boy' when you know that I hate it."

   "Because, Boy," Henry curled his lips with a sneer.  "Maybe if you get use to hearing it from someone who actually cares about you, then you won't be so quick to fly off the handle when someone out there says it even in a slip of the tongue."

   Nathan eyed him cautiously.

   Pulling back slightly, Henry looked away for a second.  "I know you think I'm just trying to be some big bad authority figure in your life," he turned back.  "But I am trying to teach you to have a little respect for other people and their opinions weather they be right or wrong.  In this world, son, you need to give a little respect if you are going to ever hope of getting any back."

   Nodding his head, Nathan gulped slightly.  "Yes Sir,"

   "That's better," Henry nodded back with a grin.  "You just remember to mind your manners and respect your elders, and maybe someday you'll live long enough to be one."

   The station wagon pulled up in front of the East Catholic campus when all the Pryor children pilled out and went to start their new school day until all that remained were Jack and a somber JJ who sat in the front seat next to him.  The younger man sat studying the pull strings of his book bag as his father watched for a moment.

   "Is there something on your mind, son?" Jack asked glancing over.

   JJ looked up nervously then shook his head.  "No," he said reaching for the door handle.  "You need to get to work."

   "JJ," Jack put his hand his son's shoulder.  "Wait a minute."

   Sitting back, JJ glanced up his father sheepishly.

   "Listen, son," Jack started running his right hand over the steering wheel.  "I know last night I was a little upset with all the news and Richie being back in town, and I might have blown up at you a little too easily, but I want you to know that if you need to talk, I am here and willing to hear you out."

   "He's hurting Dad," JJ spoke the words with short and precise sounds.

   "We're all hurting, Jackie," Jack returned.

   "No I mean he's really hurting," JJ looked over at him.  "Ever since Uncle Richie has pulled into town, all anyone has talked about is why he left and how much he hurt us, but I think everyone is forgetting a very important question in all of this."

   "And what would that be, JJ?"

   "Why is he back?" JJ said with a soft tone.  "After twelve years he just pops into town, and no one has thought to ask him why he has come back and what he might want or need."

   "He could easily tell us what he wants if he wanted to, JJ," Jack reminded him.

   "How," JJ tossed his hands in the air.  "No one has taken the time to stop yelling at him or asking why he left to ask him where he has been all this time and why is he back, now?"

   Jack tapped the wheel a few times not knowing how to respond.

   "I want to see him again," JJ finally spoke through the void of silence.  "I think he needs to see me again, too."

   "I won't stop you, JJ," Jack looked into his eyes.  "I just want you to be careful not to let him break your heart again."

   "I think he needs to see you again," JJ added.

   "I don't," Jack started.

   "Dad," JJ stopped him.  "I love Uncle Richie, and he loves me, Mom, Meg, Will and Patty, but he didn't come all the way back here to see us.  He came to see you.  He came because he needs to see you for what ever reason it might be."

   "I can't, JJ," Jack lowered his head.

   "Please, Dad," JJ pleaded.  "What ever brought him back here has been eating away at him and his heart is as broken as his body.  He needs you, and I think whether you believe it or not, you need him just as much."

   Jack looked up out the window.  "You should be going, JJ.  It looks like school is about to start."

   JJ slumped back in the seat for a moment.  "Okay," he lifted his bag and reached for the handle again.  "But promise me something," he looked over his shoulder as the door open.  "Promise me you will think about it and try and put yourself in his place for just one minute.  He needs you Dad."

   Within a couple of seconds, JJ slammed the door and Jack watched him as he walked into the building as few friends gathered around him.  JJ took a moment to look back and give his father a long hard look as if pleading for his compliance.

   The morning flew bye and they were already into the first period after lunch when Roxanne Bojarski came rushing across the gymnasium floor when she saw Meg across the hall toying with a jump rope.

   "Meg," she latched onto her arm trying to keep her dress shoes from slipping on the slick floor.  "Where have you been?"

   "Right here," Meg smirked.  "Where you would be if you were not in punishment study hall for the whole slit skirt incident."

   "Alright," Roxanne huffed trying to catch her breath.  "Stupid question.  But I had to see you.  It's after one, and I need to know if you had heard from your Mom."

   "You mean about My Mom and your Mom working out a plan to keep you here in Philadelphia?" Meg teased her friend.  "Of course not.  It's not like I can carry a telephone around with me all the time and get phone calls whenever I want.  This is not some science fiction movie."

   "Ohh," Roxanne pounded her on the shoulder lightly in frustration.  "This is killing me," she gasped.  "I need to know what was said.  I need to know what will happen to me."

   "I'm sure you will," Meg grinned tugging up her gym shorts.  "You'll just have to wait until we get home."

   "I can't wait that long," she grunted then a gleam came to her eye as she watched two nuns walk by.  "I have an idea," she grinned widely.

   "No," Meg protested.  "You're ideas are what got you in trouble in the first place.  I don't want any part of it."

   "But Meg," Roxanne cooed.  "All we need is a plan that involves one of us having a reason to call home and talk to our mothers.  And since my mother is at work and they don't like her receiving phone calls, as strange as they may sound for an operator, your Mom would be the perfect choice."

   "So you want me to lie about a reason to call home?" Meg's eyes were wide with surprise.  "How am I supposed to do that?"

   "I don't know," Roxanne tugged at her arm pulling her towards the door.  "We'll have to come up with something before we get to Sister Mary Margaret's office."

   The two girls rushed to the door as the ignored the calling of their names by the resident's nuns in the gym.

   The afternoon shoppers at the Woolworth's department store were beginning to thicken as Helen Pryor made her way to the front entrance. She had had lunched with Mrs. Bojarski as promised and had spent the next half hour making some minor purchases for her family after their meeting.  She walked onto the crowded down town sidewalk and she saw someone she did not expect.

   "Richie?" She called to her brother in law who was faced the other way watching the moving traffic for the next bus.

   He turned quickly.  "Helen?" He greeted her with a wide smile.  "I didn't expect to see you in town."

   "I met a friend for lunch and then did some shopping," she replied stepping closer between the moving passerbies's.  "I didn't expect to see you all the way from the Belmont Hotel."

   "Actually," Richie lowered his sight. "I went by the Greyhound station and bought my tickets and then decided to do a little window shopping."

   She looked at the bag he had in his hand.  "It looks like you bought the window," she said with a chuckle.

   "Oh, this," he held up the paper sack.  "I actually had this for a long while.  It's something Jack gave me when we were still kids, and I've been trying to work up the nerve to walk over to the shop and give it to him."

   "You are only a few blocks over," Helen commented.  "I could get the car and drive you if you are having trouble walking."

   "No," he said with a small bit of alarm.  "Actually, it may be a good thing that we ran into each other."  He held out the bag to her.  "Maybe I should just leave this with you."

   Helen eyed the bag carefully.

   "Please Helen," he shook it slightly.  "He might actually appreciate it if it came from you."

   After a few minutes, Helen squared her shoulders and met his eye contact.  "No, Richie," she said firmly.  "I won't give jack the package when you need to do it yourself."

   "Helen," he began to protest.

   "No, Richie," she stopped him gently pushing the bag back.  "You and I both agreed that you needed to say your own goodbyes this time.  Jack will never forgive you if you don't try and see him at least once before you leave."

   He lowered the bag to his side.  "I don't know if I can do it, Helen."

   "Richie," she touched his cheek.  "You and Jack have always been stronger than either have ever given yourself credit for.  The fact that you both survived Father O'Malley to start with, and that you were able to stand against him and the entire church while your family was fighting you on the subject only proves how very strong you really are."

   "That was a long time ago, Helen," Richie sighed.  "I've been through allot and I don't have that same fire in me anymore."

   "You won't need fire, Richie," she smiled sweetly.  "Jack still loves you.  That's why he is torn up inside over all of this.  He would never tell you, but I know if you do not say goodbye this time, you will break his heart."

   The traffic of people and moving cars a few feet away continued to flow as he considered his options while she waited for him to say the words she wanted to hear.  "Okay," he said with an exhale breath.  "I'll go and say goodbye."

   Helen leaned in and kissed his cheek.  "Thank you, Richie."

   He nodded a few times and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope.  "Now you need to do me a favor," he said with a look of grief.  "I was going to mail this to Jackie when I got to Virginia, but I'm afraid that it might get lost in the mail, so would you give it to him for me?"

   She took the small package gingerly.  "I don't understand.  Don't you want to give it to him yourself?"

   "I can only break one heart at a time, Helen," he tried to joke it off with a small giggle.  "I don't think I could handle Jackie's disappointment right now.  I know he was hoping Jack and I would find a way to work this out, so maybe it's better that he hate me for a little while for leaving without telling him instead of being mad at his father."

   After a moment of silence, he leaned over and kissed her cheek.  "Take care of my Nephews and nieces for me Helen."

   "I will," she returned in kind.  "I love you Richie and I know JJ and the kids do too."

   Richie gave her one last smile before he turned and walked away.

   Jack Pryor and Henry Walker were busy with a new display model when they heard the bell over the shop door ring.  With a large grunt as he pulled the television set out of the box Henry was holding, Jack spoke.  "We'll be right with you."

   After a few short breaths and a minor struggle with the cardboard corners, the two men accomplished their task and the mid size color TV was liberated from it's packaging and placed on top of the nearest floor model.

   Jack took a second to regroup and turned to the customer with a smile. "What can we do for you today?" He asked as his face dropped taking in the sight of his brother Richie.

   "Hi Jack," Richie attempted a smile.

   Henry could tell that this was another one of those tense stand offs, so he chose to collect the parts to the box and it's packaging and walked quietly into the back room.

   "Listen." Richie lost his smile looking away.  "I know you don't want me here right now, and I am not all that sure I want to be here either, but Helen thought it would be a good idea if we had a face to face before I left again."

   "Well there's something new," Jack said with a scowl.  "Am I suppose to be happy that you thought enough to say goodbye this time?"

   "Jack," Richie raised his hands in a slight surrender mode.  "Could we not do this right now.  I just wanted to be courteous this time.  I don't want a fight."

   Leaning on the floor model, Jack nodded his head.  "Okay," he agreed.  "I can understand that."

   Richie watched as his brother became engrossed in thought.  "I am sorry we didn't work things out, Jack."

   "Me too," Jack looked up.  "It might have been nice if we didn't have all this history to deal with."

   "We had it good there for a while," Richie smiled as he remembered back.  "We were close once Jack."

   "Yeah," a smile also crossed his lips.  "We were the best of friends back then."

   Richie nodded in agreement.

   After an awkward minute, Jack looked at his younger brother again.  "I miss those kids Richie."

   "Me too, Jack," Richie, returned softly.  He held out the paper bag with a large oval object inside.  "Maybe this will help remind you of some of the good times."

   Jack eyed the bag.  "What is it?"

   "Take it," Richie waved it slightly.

   Slowly Jack took the sack and began to unroll the open end.  "Oh my goodness," he grinned widely as he saw what was inside.

   "So you remember it," Richie grinned back.

   Reaching in while dropping the bag on the television, Jack pulled out an old dirty football.  "How could I forget this baby," he looked it over carefully.  "This was the game ball from our winning game against Cambridge High for a chance at the state tournament.  We were down by two points with less than a minute on the clock, and Bill Johnson tossed me the ball after a near fumble, and I was able to carry it over sixty yards for the winning points."  His eyes filled with spark.  "I swear to this day that I was in complete shock that I simply reacted on reflex and didn't even have a clear idea of what I was doing.  All I knew was to catch the ball and run."

   "And you made the touchdown and your team went to the state championship," Richie added to the story.

   "Where we instantly got our back sides slaughtered," Jack laughed.  "We were not ready for the state championship contest."

   "But this was the game that mattered," Richie tapped the ball in Jack's hands.  "I remember I wanted to see you play that game so bad, but I got real sick that week and could not get out of bed even after trying so hard."

   "I remember too," Jack replied.  "You were a mess and were rushed to the hospital for a few days."

   "That's right," Richie nodded.  "You knew I wanted to go but I had to settle to listening to it on my hospital room radio Mom brought me.  Then after the game, still wearing your dirty uniform, you showed up in my room with the winning game ball.  The nurse almost had a fit when you slipped it under my oxygen tent, but you said I had to have it, and you were right." Richie rubbed his hands across his face.  "I spent hours reading and rereading every signature and message you had the team write on the ball for me.  That ball kept me company for that hospital stay."

   Jack examined the ball again.  "The guys wrote some real nice stuff to you," he commented.  "They knew I was real worried about you that time."

   "My favorite was this one," he pointed to the smudge few lines on the side of the ball near Jack's hands.  "It was from you."

   Jack turned the ball over and read his message.  "To my little brother and the real hero in the Pryor family.  Get well.  Jackie."

   "That was the day I knew you were my hero, Jack," Richie commented.  "I knew that you would be by me no matter what happen in our lives.  The fact that we had already made it through what I thought would be the worst only helped me to believe that even more."

   Jack spun the ball a few times in his hand, and then looked up again.  "That was a long time ago, Rich."

   "But it could still be true, Jack," Richie said with a hint of despair.  "We could get through anything if we wanted.  All the bad guys are gone now Jack.  Pop can't keep us apart if we don't want to be, and O'Malley is long since buried."

   Jack had to turn away.  "Pop never told me he knew about O'Malley," he said softly.  "He never even told me you went over to his house again that night.  We never talked about what he was doing to those children.  All Pop told me was that you had made an uproar with the church, and everything about O'Malley's attacks on those little boys I heard in rumors."

   "Pop," Richie started.  "He wanted me to just leave well enough alone and not turn O'Malley over to the authorities even after I told him what I saw he was doing to those boy again when he came back to Saint Catherine's.  I wasn't going to tell him about us, but after I left your house, I needed to clear the air.  I mean I would have tried to stop O'Malley regardless of whether or not he had done it to us, but when I knew I was loosing you, I needed to tell Pop everything."

   Turning part way around, Jack continued to listen to his brother.

   "I think Pop hated me even more for telling him about what O'Malley had done to us," Richie continued with a hurt expression.  "He was so sure that the church was right and perfect, that my telling him made him angrier because I forced him to deal with the truth right inside of his own family.  But he still held firm and said that I was lying.  He said he would not let me spread any more filth, so he ordered me to leave town, or he would tell the police that I had made up the whole story out of some sick reason for attention."

   "Why didn't you tell me that?" Jack asked with gritted teeth.  "Why didn't you tell me the truth then?"

   "Because," a tear rolled down Richie's face.  "I didn't want to have you look into Pop's face when he called you a dirty liar like he did me when I told him.  My own father said that I was dirty and sick and he didn't believe a word I said about O'Malley.  After all, Ted was an alter boy too, so why wasn't he attacked?  I didn't understand that then either, but I do now.  Ted had no weakness and was the perfect son, but you and I were vulnerable because we only had each other, and he knew we were too needy to risk loosing Pop's affections by telling him about the dirty little things we had been forced to do."

   "Pop never told me he knew," Jack said wiping his lips.  "He never even brought up O'Malley after you left."

   "Pop didn't want to know, Jack," Richie sighed.  "He didn't want to believe what he had done to two of his sons, so he didn't choose to believe it.    O'Malley was sent away, again, and I was forced out, so no one ever had to deal with the truth."

   Jack ran both hands though his hair.  He looked at his brother for a good long moment until he lowered his arms again.  "I didn't know that O'Malley was doing those things to you, Richie.  I swear to God I would have found a way to stop him."

   "I know, Jack," Richie wiped away a few tears.  

   "He promised me," Jack's voice cracked for a minute.  "He promised me that if I did what he told me to do, that he would leave you alone."

   "Jack," Richie placed a hand on his shoulder as Jack looked away.  "He told me the same things.  I didn't find out until years latter that he was hurting you too."

   The emotion was becoming too much for Jack as he slammed both fist down on the new Television set.  "Damn you Richie!"  He cursed loudly.  "Why would you let yourself be force out of town when I needed you here with me telling me the truth?"

   "I'm sorry Jack," Richie stepped back.  "I was never the strong person you were and it took everything I had to fight as long as I did.  I couldn't fight anymore," he cried.  "I couldn't fight Pop anymore."

   Jack leaned on the set facing away from him.  "Why didn't you come back sooner?  If not while Pop was alive, why didn't you come back after he died?"

   "I couldn't," Richie started.

   "Where were you all this time, Richie?" Jack turned to him with an angry scowl.  "You have brought up allot of memories from a pass best left forgotten, but you still haven't said where you have been the last twelve years and why you are back now."

   "I wanted to see you, Jack," Richie lowered his head.  "I needed to see you."

   "Just out of the blue like that?" Jack waved his arm.  "Where have you been?  What have you been doing with your life since you left?  Do you have a family down there in Virginia?"

   "I had a wife and son," he answered sheepishly.

   "Had?" Jack repeated.  "Let me guess.  You couldn't handle the pressure and you ran out on them too?"

   "No," Richie raised his head defiantly.  "It's more like they left me."

   Jack threw his head back in disgust.  "Oh great," he said callously.  "You drove off your own wife and kid and now you come to reclaim my family."

   "You don't understand," Richie protested.  "It's not like that."

   "How did you do it?" Jack leaned in with a sneer.  "Was it another woman, or did you hit the bottle a little too hard?"

   "Jack," Richie stopped trying to be the aggressor.  "You don't understand, and this is not about my family.  I wanted to connect with my brother for a while.  I didn't have an ulterior motive, I swear."

   Picking the football off the television, Jack slammed it into his brother's chest that swaggered a few steps back from the force.  "Take your ball and get out of my shop, Richie.  Me and my family are not for sale."

   "Jack!" Richie protested.  "I don't want the ball back.  It was the only thing Pop let me take from my old room when I left, and I wanted you to have a chance to pass it on to your kids.  Maybe Will could see how much you were a hero in my eyes as Jackie is in his."

   "I don't want the ball, Richie," Jack snapped back.  "Give it you're your own son along with all you false commitment to the family unit.  I am done with you and the past."

   Richie held up the ball and stared at it.  "I can't give it to Robbie because,"

   "Oh right," Jack cut him off.  "Because he and his Mom figured you out to be the dead beat that you are and took off.  Well I'm sorry Richie, but welcome to my world and what I have had to deal with since the day you left my life twelve years ago."

   "Jack," Richie held out the ball.

   "Get out," Jack snarled.  "Get out of my store and get out of my life.  I never want to see you ever again."

   Richie stood frozen for a moment as if transfixed by his brother's steel cold eyes watching him with a rage he had not seen since the night his father had ordered him to leave town for "the good of the family."  He slowly began to pull himself together and lowered the ball placing it on the television top.  He pulled his hand away and looked at jack again.

   "You keep it," he said softly trying to show as little emotion as possible.  "The person who gave it to me isn't around any more."

   Jack watched as his brother turned away slowly and walked towards the door.  His steps were slow and labored and his stride was more of a shifting from side to side, but Jack tried not to let this pitiful sight affect him as Richie opened the door.  He took one last look back at his brother.

   "Jack," he spoke with careful and short words pass his grief.  "If you ever look into the mirror one day and see whatever might be left of my brother Jackie in there somewhere, could you tell him that I miss him." A tear rolled down his cheek.  "Tell him wherever he is, that I still love him."

   Jack stood silent not showing any signs of feelings towards his brother who he had once cherished and protected.  He watched as Richie walked out of the door and from his sight for what would be the last time.

**To Be Continued:**

**Authors Note:  **Hey Gang, no reviews to answer this time, but as promised, I am trying to get this story out as soon as possible (while FF.net will allow.)  So please enjoy and drop me a note to let me know what you think.

Best Wishes and God Bless

Phaze


	5. Chapter Five

He Ain't Heavy: Chapter Five 

   The old Philadelphia city bus came to a complete stop at the corner about a block from Jack Pryor's appliance store on the busy street, and Meg Pryor and her best friend Roxanne Bojarski climbed down the steps off the tall vehicle.  The two girls were in deep conversation as they walked not taking notice of any of the people around them.

   "I don't believe you had me do that," Meg said with a heavy frown of disappointment.  "I have never lied to get out of school early before in my life.  I think there's a special place in purgatory for girls who lie to nuns."

   "Will you stop already," Roxanne stooped her whole body foreword in aggravation.  "That is all you have been talking about for the past half hour."  Her hands flailed in motion to her words.

   "Well I'm upset," Meg stopped and stood looking at her friend as the bus drove off.  "I have never lied to get out of school before."

   "Meg," Roxanne took her by the arms with a frustrated fervor.  "It was only an hour earlier than they would have let us out anyway, and besides, it wasn't a complete lie.  We tried calling your mother and she didn't answer the phone.  That made me worried, weren't you?"

   "We said that she was deathly ill when we left the house this morning," Meg pointed out with a sharp eye.  "We told Sister Mary Francis that that was why we were worried about her."

   "And that is why we had to run home and check on her," Roxanne smiled mischievously.  "Besides, wasn't she worried sick about your father and uncle getting along?"

   "That's not the same," Meg put her hands on her hips defiantly.  "And if we are so worried, then why aren't we on the way to my house?"

   "Why?" Roxanne held up both hands.  "We both know she's not there, but my Mom is right around the corner at work in the Bell Building, so I thought I would drop in on her and find out what she decided about sending me to Boston."

   "Why do I continue to go along with these things?" Meg held her own hands up in a similar gesture.  

   "Because you are my best friend in the whole world," Roxanne hugged her.  "So you want to come up to the Ma Bell's with me?"

   "I don't know," Meg pulled away sheepishly.  "I'm not sure it's a good thing if your Mom knows you have me going along with your skipping out on school."

   "You're right," she nodded back.  "Why don't you go wait at Luke's record store, and I'll come by right after I see her."

   Meg began searching the area as she made her decision.  She had never been downtown in the middle of the day before, and playing hooky was becoming very appealing to her as a part of herself wanted to explore the world around her she had never witness unless she were on a holiday break or on the way to a doctor's appointment with her mother.

   "Okay," Meg finally looked back and shook her head yes.  "You go up and see your Mom, and I'll do some window shopping on my way to the record store, but you come right there when you are done.  I don't want to have to explain why I am not in school if I run into anyone I know."  Roxanne agreed and left quickly leaving Meg alone on the bustling street to her own recourse.  She turned slowly and took in all the sights a schoolgirl should not be seeing at this time of day as she walked slowly up the sidewalk in the direction of the shop.  

   Making her way up the crowded streets, Meg had been walking a few minutes when she noticed a lone man sitting on the bench at the bus stop across the street from where she was traveling.  It took her a moment to recognize him, but it hit her suddenly as her lips gave voice to her thought.  "Uncle Richie?"

   Richie Pryor sat on the bench waiting for the next bus in a sullen position as Meg made her way through the traffic over to her uncle.  She approached him cautiously from behind watching for any reaction from his slump silence.

   "Uncle Richie?" She spoke over the street noises as she stepped to the side of the bench.

   He looked up slowly at her.  "Meg?" A smile crossed his thin lips as he caught sight of her.  They had not had time alone since he had gotten back, but he truly treasured his eldest niece.

   "I thought that was you," she grinned back widely.  "What are you doing out here?"  She could tell that he had been upset and her heart sank as she watch him wipe a stray tear away all the while hoping she would not notice.  "Did you go over to Dad's shop?"

   "Yeah," he said softly as she sat down next to him at his left.  "I saw your Dad."

   She took another long hard look at him before she asked, "It didn't go well, did it?"

   "You might say that," he forced a grin as he sniffed.  "I guess you could say your father and I had it out for the last time."

   "What did he say?" she placed her soft hand over his.  "Was he still angry?"

   "He has every right to be, Meg," Richie told her.  "I hurt your father real bad when I left the way I did all those years ago.  I should have never done that."

   "Yeah but that was a long time ago," she corrected with a shrug.  "I mean he has to get over it some time."

   "Well," he grinned with grief.  "Today was not that day."

   "I'm sorry," she gave him a polite smile.

   "It's okay, Meg," he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.  "One of the things you learn as you grow up is you can't make people feel the way you do if they don't want to."

   "Well," she searched her thoughts for the words.  "Are you going to try again tomorrow?"

   Richie shook his head slowly.  "No Meg," he said with sigh.  "My bus leaves early in the morning, and I will be going back to Lynchburg."

   "You can't do that," Meg almost jumped.  "You can't just give up like that.  You need to keep trying.  Dad can be real stubborn at times, but he always comes around.  He did when he didn't want me to do Bandstand."

   "This is not some TV show we are talking about here, kid," Richie gave a soft chuckle.  "When it comes to what your father considers betrayal, which I guess in a sense it was, he is not about to give in so easily and I can't say I blame him."

   "I'm sorry," she creased her brow.  "I really wish you would stay a little longer."

   "I do too, Meg," he touched her face softly.  "I had hoped to get to know my nephews and nieces again while I was here."

   They sat silent for a moment as Meg looked up again.  "Don't you have a family, Uncle Richie, I mean do you have any kids of your own?"

   A sad look, even more morose than before crossed his face.  "I did," he lowered his head staring at the ground.  "His name was Robert, or as his Mom and I called him, Robbie."  A small smile seemed to cross his lips for a moment.  "He always hated when we called him that, but he never stopped us from using it."

   "Robbie," Meg smiled.  "I have a cousin named Robbie.  Is he back in Lynchburg waiting for you?"

   Again the grief came across heavy as he lifted his head slightly looking into Meg's eyes.  "Robbie died, Meg," he said almost under his breath and Meg had to struggle against the street noise to hear him, but she would not have needed to hear the words because his face said it all.

   "Oh my goodness," she covered her mouth with her hand.  "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

   "It's okay," he nodded once.  "I haven't told anyone in the family yet.  You are the first."

   "What," she stammered slightly.  "How did he die?"

   It took Richie a few seconds as he tried to keep his composure.  Then with a swift move, he slammed his left hand, knuckles first, down onto the solid metal brace on his left side of his body.  "In the accident," he spoke sharply as his voice cracked slightly.  "Robbie and my wife died in the car crash that put me in this brace."

   "Oh, Uncle Richie," Meg took his free arm.  "I'm so sorry."

   "It all happened so fast, Meg," he said looking into her eyes as his mind drifted into his thoughts.  "It took me a while to rebuild my life when I left Philly, but after a long few years, I joined this small home church, and it was there that I met Rosie.  She was so sweet and pretty, and I fell for her almost instantly.  I knew that in spite of everything that had happen, that God had lead me to that small church and to Rosie, and there was were I belonged."

   "So you fell in love and married her?" Meg coached.

   "Almost instantly," Richie smiled again.  This time it was real and meaningful.  "We were so in love, and six months later when I found out she was going to give me a child, I was besides myself with delight.  When Robbie was born, heaven was completed for me here on Earth.  We were a happy family Meg.  I mean we had our problems like any other family, but for the first time since being rejected by your grand parents, I felt acceptance and love for just being me and not for what everyone else wanted me to be."

   "They sound like very nice people," Meg commented touching his hands warmly.  "I think I would have loved to meet them."

   "That was the plan," he replied with a more serious brow.  "But I could never work up the courage to just bring the family up here for a trip, even after Rosie had tried for years to talk me into it.  I just was too afraid of what my two families would think of and do to each other."

   "I think we would have really liked them," Meg assured him.  

   "Looking back now," he nodded once.  "I agree, but I was never given that chance.  All my hopes and dreams died on that evening nearly a year ago." 

   His eyes seemed to drift again as he continued.  "It was one of those unusually spring storms in Virginia that quickly turned into an ice storm before anyone was caught aware.  Robbie was with me when I drove to pick up Rosie from her work at the department store.  It was our tenth year anniversary, and Robbie had saved up his newspaper delivery money and had insisted he was going to take us out to Country Cooking for a celebration dinner.  He was so excited with his pocket full of mixed change and small bills."

   Meg listened as he licked his dry lips.  "The rain was really coming down as we waited in the parking lot for her to finish her shift, and it was turning to sleet as we saw her running for the car.  By the time we got on the main road, the streets were already starting to ice over."  His eyes got a little misty as he sighed softly.  "They call Lynchburg the hill city with good reason.  It's located in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and there is hardly any road where you won't encounter a slope of some kind."

   Shifting slightly, he continued.  "We were on one of those hills behind the store on our way to the restaurant when I lost control of the car on the slippery driveway just as I approached the street.  I was trying to go slow and navigate the large decline, but the wheels were no longer catching to the road, and I could barely see the eighteen-wheeler as it was coming down the hill in our direction going for the same downward slope.  I could tell that he was moving far too fast for his own comfort, but he could not slow down quickly without jack knifing the trailer, so his only hope was that I would be able to give him a clear path, but as hard as I tried to slam on the breaks, between the rushing of the streaming water under the wheels and ice covered pavement, I could not stop the car, and we slid right into the trucks path."

   "Oh my God," Meg gasped covering her mouth again with one of her hands.

   "The impact was so loud and hard, I blacked out for a few seconds, and when I woke up, I saw that the truck had hit just between the front and rear seats on the passenger side where both of them were seated."

   Meg rapped her arms around him as he covered his face with his hands.  "My wife and son were both killed on that day, and I was left with a broken back and no hope for a future."

   "Uncle Richie," she spoke softly into his ear.  "I am so sorry," tears rolled down her cheeks.  "It must have been so horrible for you."

   "It was, Meg," he said pulling his hands away and sniffing a few tears of his own away.  "I barely escaped with my own life, but my family was dead.  It took me weeks before I could even sit up, and then months before I could even attempt to walk again."

   Meg did not know what to say, but she knew she had to say something uplifting.  "Well," she tried to force a grin.  "You seem to have that mastered."

   "Only with these braces," Richie said tapping the metal again.  "The shell of a man I am on the in side seems to be reflected by these restraints on the outside."

   She tried to move pass his grief.  "Dad doesn't know anything about this?"

   "I tried to tell him, Meg," Richie said turning to her again.  "I only got out the fact that I once had a wife and son, and he thought my using pass tense meant that I had lost them to divorce or abandonment.  He wouldn't even let me finish and to tell him that they are the reason I had to come back here."

   "You had to come back here fore Aunt Rose and Robbie?" Meg questioned.

   "I had to come back for Jack and Helen and Jackie and you and the others, Meg," he said with a heavy breath.  "I needed to connect with something real in my life again.  I needed to remind myself that I still had a reason to go on.  I need to find people that I loved and who would love me back.  I needed a reason to go on living."

   "Oh Uncle Richie," she brushed a hand against a stray tear on his face.  "You should have told that to Dad.  He's mad, but he still loves you and wouldn't want you think you are all alone in the world."

   "But I am Meg," Richie returned just as the squealing of the bus's breaks stopped a few feet before them.  He stood up with great effort and gave her one last smile.  "Thank you for listening, honey.  Tell your brothers and sister I am sorry I missed them."

   She stood up as he pulled her into a hug.  "I love you Uncle Richie."

   "I love you too sweaty," he returned pulling away.  "You be sure to melt those teenager boys's heart back there at Bandstand, and make your uncle proud.  I'll be watching from time to time."

   Meg watched for a minute.  "You're wrong," Meg called out to him as he labored up the steps into the bus.

   He turned back for a second with a questionable look.

   "You are never alone," she held out her hand up to him.  "We all care about you, and someday you will be able to see that."

   He kissed her hand softly with a small hint of a smile.  Then as he released her dainty palm, he turned and stepped into the large craft.  Meg watched through the window as he paid his fare and took a seat up front next to the window.  He waved with a short remorse smiled as the bus door closed and it pulled away from the curb.  A steam of bus fumes and smoke encircled her as she watched her uncle leave her life, again.

   The late afternoon son had falling behind the clouds as Helen Pryor sat silently at her kitchen table clutching the envelope Richie had given her for JJ.  He had already been very emotional about his uncle's visit, and she was sure that this would only add to the displeasure.  She had sat there for so long in the silence, that she was startled when Patty's voice called from the hall.

   "What are you making for supper?" The young girl still wearing her school uniform and hair pulled back into a ponytail asked.

   After collecting herself from the small shock, Helen glanced at her wristwatch.  "Oh will you look at the time.  I haven't even taken the pork chops out from the freezer."

   "I can do it," Patty spoke quickly in a surprisingly helpful manner.  "Which pack are they?" She asked reaching into the freezer.

   "The white paper," Helen responded trying to shake off the further surprise.  "I wrote it on the outside.

   "Here they are," Patty held up the large frozen pack.  "What do I do next?"

   Helen stood up and took the meat from her daughter's grasp.  "I need to let them sit for a little while over the hot oven so they can thaw out before I can bake them," Helen explained unwrapping the pork.  "Why don't you go and watch Bandstand for a while, and I call you if I need help."

   "But I want to help," Patty shook her head watching her Mom attentively.  

   Helen watched her daughter as she unwrapped the meat and laid the slabs across a clean plate.  She could not help but wonder what the younger Pryor was up to when she finally voiced her question.  "What is this about, Patty?"

   Patty looked up surprised.  "I'm watching you make supper," she replied with an honest tone.

   Helen placed the large serving plate on the stove and the wiped her hands on her apron as she turned to her.  "Why are you so concerned about how I cook all of the sudden?"

   "I don't know," she shrugged.  "I just felt like watching."

   Gesturing to the table, Helen returned to her seat and Patty took the one to her right.  After a silent moment, she placed her hand over her daughter's.  "Is there something you want to talk about, Patty?"

   Patty noticed the envelope and picked it up feeling a small metal object inside.  "What's in here?" 

   "That's for JJ to find out," Helen took the parcel from her and placed it back on the table.  "Right now I want to know what is on your mind."

   "Richie," Patty said.

   "Uncle Richie," Helen corrected.

   "Right," Patty sighed.  "Why didn't Will or I ever know that we had another uncle?  I mean JJ and Meg knew, but no one ever talked about him."

   "That's because it was very complicated and talking about it only hurt your father," Helen explained.  "So we all agreed a long time ago not to speak about him."

   "Like he never existed," Patty commented.  "It's like everyone just wiped him out of their memories, but he was still alive somewhere and everyone pretended that he wasn't."

   "It's complicated, Patty," Helen tried to reason.  "Sometimes grown ups do things that don't seem to make sense, but they do it all for a reason."

   "To erase a human person," Patty added.  "How can we just pretend that someone doesn't matter?  In school the sisters are always saying that we have to consider even the least of God's children, and then Dad decides that its time to just ignore a member of our own family."

   "Patty," Helen started with a hint of frustration.

   "Why are we suppose to believe one thing in church, and then the rules change when we get home?"

   "It's complicated," Helen grumped in between her daughter's breaths for air.  "I can't tell you what your father's reasoning was in this matter, but I can tell you that he has his reasons, and as the head of this house, he has the right to make up the rules."

   "Even if it's wrong?" Patty cocked her head slightly.

   Helen took a deep breath and fell back into her seat.  "Patty, why do you have to make everything a problem?"

   "I just want an answer," Patty insisted raising her hands with her palms in the air.  "Sister Grace is always saying for us to do as she says and not as she does.  Is this one of those, 'because I say so' reasons?"

   Shaking her head side to side, Helen sighed with frustration.  "Yes," she finally said with finality.  "It's because your father says so, so don't go giving him a hard time.  Let your father handle this the way he wants."

   "But," Patty started to protest.

   "Patty," Helen stopped her.  "Go get some potatoes out of the storm porch and then peal, clean and the boil them."

   "How much?" Patty asked as her mother stood up.

   "Enough," Helen returned with a frown.  "Peal enough."  Then she left the room taking the envelope and placing it in her apron pocket.

   The front door opened just as Helen walked past it, and JJ Pryor entered with his gym bag slung over his left shoulder wearing his famous letterman jacket for East Catholic.  She gave her eldest son a cautious smile as her hand patted the envelope in her apron pocket.

   "Hi Mom," he eyed her carefully knowing her look meant something was up.  Just as she was about to speak, Will's voice came booming from the living room.  He was making the quickest approach towards his older brother that his braced leg would allow.

   "JJ," he called with child like excitement.  "You'll never guess what happen today at recess."

   Turning his attention to his younger brother, JJ plastered a large grin across his handsome face to fake the same amount of joy that the smaller Pryor beamed.  "Well then, don't make me guess," he called back just as Will reached him.

   "We were playing kickball in the playground," Will told with glee.  "And I kicked the ball right pass Jimmy Johnson at first base, and I almost made it all the way to second before they could catch me."

   "Wow," JJ exclaimed.  "That's great, Thrill.  Any day now, and you'll have those boys eating your dust when you reach home."

   "Yeah," Will nodded heartily.  "Wait until I get my brace off, and I'll be ready to join the football team."

   JJ squatted down and gave his little brother a big hug.  "I can't wait to see that, Buddy."

   Pulling away from his hero, Will gave him another big grin.  "I'll make sure you are there when it happens."

   "See," Will looked up at their Mom.  "I told you JJ would be excited."

   "We all are," Helen gave him a sweet smile.  "Could you do me a favor and go help Patty with the potatoes while I talk to JJ?"

   "Sure," Will replied with a big smile.  "I'll tell her about my kickball game, again."

   JJ waited until Will had rounded the corner into the kitchen before he turned back to his mother.  "What is it?"  He asked with a worried brow.  "Is it about Uncle Richie and Dad?"

   She was reluctant to speak, but his concerned face gave her to know she needed to tell him.  "It didn't go well, JJ," she finally spoke.  "I saw Richie this morning, and he has decided to leave tomorrow.  He has his ticket for the Greyhound."

   "What?" JJ gasped.  "But I thought he was going to give him a few days."

   "It just didn't work out," she told her son.

   "I have to go see Uncle Richie," JJ said dropping his pack on the floor.  "He promised me we would spend time together before he left."

   "JJ," Helen called just as he turned.

   He turned back and saw her holding out the envelope.  "Richie asked me to give you this.  He told me to tell you he is sorry."

   His body was nearly frozen as JJ raised his arm to take the parcel.  He could feel the small bulge as his fingers lightly touched the white paper.  His lips let out a small almost silent whimper.

   "What is it?" Helen questioned.

   Her son spoke not a word, but carefully worked the sealed envelope from its corner and tore open the top portion.  Glancing in, his eyes became misty as he saw the small silver Saint Savio medallion staring back from it's carefully positioned place between the folded sheets of paper.

   "He promised," JJ's disappointed voice let out.  "He promised he would not leave without giving this back to me personally."

   "JJ," she touched his cheek.  "He's not trying to hurt you.  Richie has his reasons for running out on you like this."

   "Yeah," JJ looked up at her.  "Dad." His lips curled slightly with a sneer.  "He knew Dad would never let him back into the family, so he stopped trying."

   "That's not fair," she said back with a hint of anger.  "It takes two to keep an augment going, JJ.  It also takes a little determination to make up for what your Uncle did to your Father and all of us."

   JJ allowed his eyes to drift back down to the envelope, and he could see that the paper had writing on it.  He slowly removed the medal and handed the rest to his mother.  "He wrote a note."

   Helen took the white pages from the pack and read the first line.  "It's for you, JJ," she stated handing them slowly back into his shaking hands.  Her fingers brushed the medal as she pulled back.

   "Oh my goodness," she exclaimed with a smile.  "I remember that.  Richie gave it to you when you just a boy.  How did he end up with it?"

   He rubbed the object with his thumb.  "I gave it to him the other night when I dropped him off at the hotel," JJ told his mother.  "I made him promise that he would give it back to me before he left so I we would have to meet face to face again."

   "JJ," Helen started just as he raised his head with a tear rolling down his cheek.

   "He lied to me, again," JJ grunted.  "Why would he do that?"

   "The letter might be able to tell you more than I can, honey," she tapped her hand over his that was holding the note.  

   Lifting the crisp white sheets, JJ could see the shaky hand writing in his Uncle's own penmanship.  The accident had taking away allot of the mobility in his hands as well, JJ thought, or perhaps it was the nerves of having to write a 'Dear John' letter to his trusting nephew that helped to make the letters and lines so jumbled and uneven.

   JJ allowed himself to slowly lower into the wooden chair next to the telephone table, and he tried to focus his eyes through the blurring tears.  Helen placed her arm around her son and leaned in next to him reading the note from behind.

Dear Jackie, 

   By now I am sure you figured out that I would not be seeing you again on this trip.  I am sorry to be doing this to you and your family, but I can no longer stand the heartbreak of not being part of the Pryor family.  I so wanted things to work, but it was not meant to be.  So I have chosen the cowards way out, and will be leaving with out my promised farewell.

   I hope you will understand, Jackie.  You mean the world to me, and I would give anything for a chance to get to know you again, but I cannot and will not continue to be a problem between you and your father.  I love you dearly and I admire the strong young man you have become.  My prayers were always for my son to live up to the example his older cousin had set, but these desires will never come to be, and I need to return to my life and rebuild on the foundation I have there and not to try and rebuild on the ashes of a life I destroyed a long time ago.  

   I realize that these ramblings may not make any sense to you right now, but I do hope you will understand that I am not trying to hurt you, but I am trying to save you the grief that would surely come if I were to try and make a place for myself in your life again.

   Kiss your brother and sisters for me, and if you would please remind them that they have an uncle who may be invisible, but still loves you all from afar.

   Take care of yourself Jackie.

Love

Uncle Richie

   Once he had read the letter for a second time, JJ slowly folded the small pages back up and slipped them into the sleeve of the envelope.  He did not speak a word, and if it were to be known, he was not sure he would be able to let a sound slip from his mouth.  He simply held tightly to the note and leaned forward across his knees resting on his elbows.  He raised the medallion to within a few inches of his face, and he stared attentively at the small object.

   "JJ," Helen finally broke the silence rubbing his back with her palm.  She used her other hand to brush away the tears from her own eyes.  "Are you 0kay?"

   His head lifted slightly as he stared ahead.  "No," the whisper echoed through the hall.

   "It's not all bad," Helen said shaking her head.  "Richie apparently has a son he never told us about.  Perhaps he has a whole family he never got around to telling us about."

   "There's something wrong," JJ said softly still staring.  "He mentioned him like if he wasn't around anymore or could not could do anything I could."

    Helen tried to decide what the letter must have meant, too, as she watched him roll the medal between his fingers.  "If he did have a family, then why didn't he mention it to anyone?"

   "I don't understand that either," Helen agreed.  "But things were a little one sided where this whole visit was concerned.  Perhaps he just never felt it was the right time to mention it."

   It was at that moment that they heard door open again, and Meg Pryor stepped into the foyer.  She was still wearing her school uniform and had a worried look on her face.  It took them a second to turn their attention her, and then Helen asked, "Shouldn't you be at Bandstand?"

   "I skipped it," she said removing her coat and hanging it on the end of the banister to the stairwell.  "I spent most of the afternoon looking for Dad, but Mr. Walker said he was upset after Uncle Richie left, and he said he needed to get away for a while.  I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find him."

   Leaning back against the wall, Helen sighed with frustration.

   "I saw Uncle Richie at the bus stop," Meg continued.  "He was really upset too."

   "I know," Helen nodded.  "I saw him too, and he said he was leaving in the morning."

   "He's given up on Dad," JJ added.  "On all of us."

   "Meg?" Helen thought for a moment.  "Did you have a talk with your Uncle?"

   "We talked for a few minutes," Meg replied with a puzzled look.

   "Did he tell you about the family he never mentioned to us?" JJ asked with a hint of anger.  "The ones who he doesn't think can live up to us."

   "JJ," Helen hushed.  "That's not what the letter said."

   "The letter?" Meg questioned.

   JJ lifted the envelope to her, and she took it into her hands.  She slowly repeated the same motion he had done only moments earlier, and read the heart felt note.  Her eyes began to tear up as she folded it and put it away.

   "He's hurting JJ," Meg said softly.  

   "Yeah," JJ looked up with anger.  "Well so are the rest of us.  Doesn't he care what he is doing to us?"

   Meg remained silent as she placed the letter of the phone table.  "He does care," she spoke again.  "He cares enough to walk away from the only family he has left to keep them from fighting with each other.  To keep the pain of his memory from hurting them anymore."

   "Richie has a family," Helen said walking to hug her daughter.  "The letter says he has a son."

   "Oh Mom," Meg's eyes welted with tears again.  "That's the whole point of why he came back.  His son's name was Robbie, and he died with Aunt Rose in the car accident that broke Uncle Richie's back."

   "Oh my God," Helen gasped.  "Why didn't he tell us?"

   "He tried," Meg cried.  "But everyone was too busy trying to find out why he left, that no one thought to ask why he came back."

   "Ronnie wanted to be like me," JJ said out loud as his thoughts raced.  "Uncle Richie came to rebuild on the ashes of his past to reclaim his family, only he was turned away."

   "Richie," Helen sighed the name again.  "We need to go to the hotel and see him."

   "I'll go," JJ jumped up before the girls could react.  "He was trying to connect to me because of his dead son, so maybe I can try and help and convince him to stay and tell Dad why he really came back. Dad won't turn his back on him if he knows how much he's hurting."

   "Don't try and push your father again," Helen cautioned.  "I'm sure Jack will want to talk to Richie about this, but you know how he hates to be pushed."

   "I can't think about that," JJ shook his head.  "First I have to get to the hotel and stop Uncle Richie from leaving." He pushed past them as Meg spun around quickly.

   "It's to late," she called out.  "He's not there."

   JJ stopped and looked back at her.  

   "I called the hotel from the record store," she explained.  "They told me that he already checked out.  He's not staying at the hotel anymore."

   "That doesn't make sense," Helen spoke up.  "Richie said that he was leaving in the morning. Where is he staying tonight?"

   "Where ever he's staying," JJ added.  "We may not be able to find him in time."

   It was just then the front door opened again, and Jack Pryor walked into a hall of confused and upset faces.

To be Concluded 

**Author's Notes:  **Hey guys, thanks for sticking around to read this far.  We're into the home stretch here, and there is only one chapter to go so please continue to read.  I think it will be worth your while.

To: Sarah: Thanks for the kind words.  I can identify with you about getting on FF.net the last few weeks.  I've been trying to post chapters and some of the reviews have disappeared, but all in all, I still think it's one of the best web sights on the net.  I gave Meg a slightly lager role in the story as it went on, so I hope you enjoy it.  I like using as many characters as possible when telling the story.  I think in a close family like the Pryor family, it comes off more real.  I'm glad you like the long chapters; because I think the next one is a biggy.  Thank again.

To Rebel Goddess:  I'm glad you like the secret.  The hard part is writing a little mystery into the story when the secret is not really a secret to the characters.  I always like a story with a twist because it keeps you on your toes.  I too love JJ and Will.  Everyone should have that type of relationship with his or her brother.  As for Richie's son, you caught me.  As you now know, Robbie and Rose both died, but there will be a little more to the story and where JJ fits into the connection next chapter. I'm glad you think the faith aspects of the story fits better into this one.  It helps that the characters in this story actually live the faith I gave them, and I don't have to explain why they go to church in my stories and not on the show, and I'll not even mention the whole science fiction alien baggage that goes with it in Smallville.  I still think even though it is hardly ever mention or used, that Clark does believe in a higher power.  And yes, I'm working on a new Smallville story, but it may be a while.  (I think I told you that in another email, sorry for the rerun if it is.)  Thank you for reading and your comments.  They have been helpful and sometimes inspiring.

Well thank you all for reading and I hope to have the last chapter posted in a few days.

Best Wishes and God Bless

Phaze


	6. Chapter Six

He Ain't Heavy: Chapter Six 

   Jack Pryor seemed a little shaken while his wife watched attentively as he spoke on the phone in the front hall of the Pryor home in Philadelphia.  He had nodded his head a few times, and she listened carefully to his words as he spoke to his younger brother Pete on the other end of the line.

    "Okay Pete," Jack nodded again.  "I understand.  Do whatever you can, and we'll see what we can do on this end.  Thanks."

   Carefully he returned the phone to its cradle and looked up at his wife.

   After a few moments of no words, Helen spoke for him.  "The police can't help, can they?"

   "Richie," Jack wiped his face with frustration as he spoke.  "He is a grown adult who has the right to come and go as he pleases, and unless he is missing for well over twenty four hours, there is little that the police can do."

   "What do we do now?" She asked with a worried brow.

   "We wait to see if he shows up," Jack returned.  "If not here, then at the Greyhound station in the morning.  If he doesn't make his bus, then we will have a reason to worry."

   "But what about tonight?" She added to her inquiry.  "Its getting cold out there, and he may not have anywhere to stay until morning."

   "I know," Jack sighed as they stood staring at each other.  "I have a feeling that Richie wasn't planning on having to spend all his money on a hotel while he was here.  I think he used whatever he had left to buy the ticket, and now he has no money for a room."

   "We need to find him, Jack," she frowned.  "He can sleep in the boys room."

   "How do we do that, Helen?" His voice raised an octave.  "As mad as I am at Richie, I don't want my brother sleeping in the gutter anymore than you do, but I don't know where he is.  Pete said he would take a few rides by the hotel and the bus station and let us know if he sees him, but there is little else I can do."

   "We could go looking for him ourselves," the eldest son, JJ's voice came from the stairwell behind them as he made his way back to the lower level.  "We could put our heads together and try and think of a few places he might have gone, and then go look there."

   "JJ," Jack started with a haggard tone.  "I'm not sure we should be killing ourselves over this.  Your Uncle has always had a thing for being dramatic, and he is very well capable of taking care of himself.  He got himself all the way up here from Virginia on his own, and he should be able to find his way back just the same."

   "But Dad," JJ protested.  "Uncle Richie has never been suffering the effects of a broken back before.  Between the pain of that and his hopelessness about being rejected again, there is no telling what he is capable of."

   "What are you getting at, JJ?" Helen asked softly.  "Did he saying something to you that would make you think he might purposely hurt himself?"

   "No," JJ shook his head and looked away.  "I'm just worried."

   Jack glanced over at his wife and saw that she too was concerned for both her brother in law and her son.  He stood silently for a few seconds, and then he placed his hand on JJ's shoulder.  "Where do you think he might have gone?"

   "I'm not sure," JJ replied still looking down at his hands.  "I never got to know him as well as I wanted to.  I'm not sure where he would have gone when he was upset and alone."

   The silence weighed heavy between them as each of them thought of some possible place that Richie could have considered a safe haven and a place to spend the night.  The air was stiff, and each of their breathing patterns could be heard distinctly until Jack finally broke the silence again.

   "Saint Catherine's," he spoke softly.  "Richie always loved to go to Saint Catherine's when he was upset."

   "But Jack," Helen questioned.  "After all the horrible things that happen to him there, why would he go back?"

   "We both knew that as long as we stayed in the sanctuary, that Father O'Malley would not touch us," Jack explained.  "I guess even though he was perverse, he would not violate the sanctity of the church with his dirty deeds.  He would always wait or try and lure us back into the private chambers behind alter and into the parsonage before he would do anything."

   Helen placed her arm around her husband as a quirky smile came to his face.  "We got pretty good as listening for O'Malley's footsteps, then Richie and I would slip into one of the confessionals and hide.  I always thought Richie was just playing the game with me, but I know now that he was trying to hide from O'Malley for the same reason I was."

   "Jack," She placed her head on his shoulder.  

   "So do you think he would go there?" JJ asked with worried eyes.

   "It's all I can think of, JJ," Jack returned.  "There is no telling how much his way of thinking has changed, but when he was here, I knew Richie better than he knew himself, so that is where he would have gone."

   "Then let's go there," JJ picked up the keys from the small telephone table with a hint of excitement.

   Jack stood firm a few moments, and then he said, "I'm not going JJ."

   A look of bewilderment came across his son's face.  "I don't understand," JJ spoke.  "I thought once Meg explained why he came back here to see us, that you would be able to get past this anger you have for him."

   "It's not that simple, JJ," Jack defended himself.  "Even if I am pass some of those things, I can't go and meet with your Uncle at Saint Catherine's.  Not now that I know what happen to both us of there.  I can't relive those memories."

   "So you are just going to give up on him again?"  JJ asked with disgust.  "You are just going to let him leave again with out trying one last time to make things right?"

   "I can't do it, Jackie," Jack protested looking away.  

   "But he won't come back here unless you come with me," JJ told his father as his voice cracked.  "He won't believe that you have had a change of heart unless you show up with me."

   "I'm not that sure I have had a change of heart, son," Jack said under his breath.

   "What?" JJ let out with a gasp.

   "I understand why he came back here, and why he needs to have the family again," Jack continued.  "But it doesn't change anything about why he left and the anger I still feel inside."

   "But Dad," JJ started as Jack held up his hand to silence him.

   "I've said it all along, JJ," the elder Pryor spoke firmly.  "I can not and will not stop you from having a relationship with your uncle if that is what you want, but I won't disregard my own feelings and welcome him back with open arms.  There is too much between us for me to just ignore.  I'm sorry."

   JJ stood shifting his weight from leg to leg for a few minutes as he thought silently.  He finally looked up again.  "I'm sorry too Dad, but I have to go.  I need to see him, even if it's for the last time."

   "I'm not stopping you, JJ," Jack said looking deeply into his son's eyes.  "Just be sure that you are ready to have your uncle rip your heart out again before you get there.  Because Richie is only good at one thing, and that is disappointing the people who love him."

   "If JJ is going," Meg came from behind Jack and Helen.  "Then I'm going with him."

   Moving aside to let his daughter through, Jack only nodded his head once as a reply.  The two teens placed their jackets on and made there way out the door.

   Helen stopped them just as they stood on the front stoop.  "JJ and Meg," she called out as they turned back.  "Please promise me that you will both be careful."

   "We will, Mom," JJ assured her.

   She placed her hand on his cheek.  "Don't be mad at your father, JJ.  He's trying as best as he can with this.  He needs a little more time."

   "I know," he returned with a polite smile.  "I'll call if we decide to spend any time with Uncle Richie."

   "Okay," Helen agreed.  "I'll keep a plate warm just incase you want to eat when you get back."

   Again JJ nodded, and he and his sister Meg disappeared into the darkness of the street light just outside of the Pryor house.  She watched as the station wagon backed out of the driveway and disappeared down the road.

   Saint Catherine's was a very large gothic aged stonemason building on the east side of Philadelphia that sat between a new shopping plaza and a row of tenement apartments.  The steeple on the front right side of the building stood nearly seven stories high and could be seen from blocks away.  The old structure had stood since shortly after the turn of the nineteenth century.  It had become a place of comfort and meditation for thousands who had come before, but for Richie Pryor, who stood on the windy cold sidewalk just outside, it had become a place of horrible memories and a past better left unvisited.  

   Most would have turned and walked away if they had experienced the horrors that he and his brother had lived through in this place, and for the past twelve years, the haggard man who stood staring, had been able to do that, but tonight, he had nowhere else to go.  A week before the anniversary of his wife and son's deaths, he stood before the very place that had contributed to his upbringing and his ultimate down fall.

   Taking one last gulp of the cool crisp air, Richie reached for the handle of the large dark mahogany door and found that the building, just as it had been in the days of his youth, was unlocked.  He slowly made his way into the darken vestibule.

   The grandeur of the sanctuary just beyond another set of large heavy doors took his breath slightly as he heard his thundering steps echo through the huge building across the hardwood floors.  Little had changed in the past twelve years other than the fact that the many rows of pews were now beginning to show their age with the warned seat marks brushed into each spot over the centuries of usage.  Each of the sidewalls was lined with enormous stained glass window depicting various biblical events.  Between each set of windows were small replica statues with each telling a step of the walk our savior Jesus Christ made on his way to Calvary before, during and after he was hung on the cross.  These small statues and their set places were known as the 'stations of the cross', and each had a special place and prayer for those who wished to fallow the chain of events.  Much like the rosary beads, these were a sign and a set moment for prayer.

   There were also various stations around the room where there were larger statues set up for the saints of great value and importance to the catholic church such as the blessed mother Mary, Saint Jude, Saint Peter, the sacred heart depiction of Jesus, Saint Catharine and a small host of other Saints known only to the most devout Catholic.  They were each surrounded with a bed of cascading candles that could be burned in reverence to each saint and as a token of the prayer made for the aid of that Saint's blessing.

   Walking down the wide center aisle, Richie remembered back at his time when he would fallow the set course of these prayer chains and needs each morning before dawn when he was a priest and each night before retiring to his chambers for more silent and personal prayers.  Even as a child, the importance of Catholic rituals and set prayers had been engraved into his young mind, and to this day, he could still recite each and every word of the set poem like readings.

   As his steps approached the front, his eyes drifted to the large alter area before him where the large table with the crisp white lining cloth draped across it with the big Bible set atop with three purple sashes bookmarks placed among it's pages to mark the places where they would be read from during each communion service.  Behind the table were three very Victorian chairs with high backs and find ornamentation details on each part of the gold painted woodwork.  Beside these were a set of two smaller and bench like seats where the alter boys would sit waiting to perform their duties for the priest at each set moment.  A small grin came to his lips as he remembered a very young set of Pryor brothers sitting restlessly waiting for each portion of the service to go by and nervously trying to remember their places and specific duties.

   More from and old habit than from a desire, Richie rested his hand against the front pew and bent one knee bowing slightly before the alter, as he had been trained to do for the first twenty something years of his life.  With great effort after performing this act while his braces held him stiff and with pain, we slipped into the seat and let out a great sigh of relief at being able to sit down after such a long time.  In great relief and joy to take in the slightly scented air, his head cocked back, and he could see the great handy work above him.

   The ceilings were well over thirty feet high at the peak down the center of the church.  Though out the sanctuary, the walls were lined with large pillars that ran up the walls and followed the up climb of the ceiling.  Down each side closer to the center, where a matching set of columns that met up with their mate along the wall and formed a large pointed arch between them and then another arch that ran down the center.  There were about ten of these arches on either side that were spaced about fifteen feet apart at the walls, and about the same as they cross through the center of the building.  The arches were decorated with great works of crafted woodwork, which added to the great ornamentation of the large hall.  All these arches could only lead the eye to follow their approach to the alter where high above was set a dome shape ceiling painted with great care and skill.  The portrait was of the blessed savior of his ascension into the glowing rays from heaven as a dove was released from his hands and angels with flowing wings and robes of draped white cloths surrounded him.  At his feet were the saints of old who marveled at his rising to the throne of heaven.

   Following the wall down behind the seating on the alter, there was a large gold plated cabinet like box where the sacraments of wine and the small white disc known as host were kept before blessing and in between services.  Off to the left was the podium where the word of the Lord and the sermon would be read.  The alter was also surrounded by candles, and at the center point, hanging from the ceiling and held firmed by thin cables from each side, just above and behind the head of the priest where he would sit, was a large seven foot crucifix with a large replica of Jesus hanging on the cross.

   To a novice, the beauty and regal stance of the room was breathtaking.  To Richie who had marveled at these displays many times before, it was a small piece of home and comfort to his soul from a youth long since gone, if not ripped away.  His eyes continued to roam as he saw the two large phone booth like objects on either side of the alter where there were three compartments.  Two small rooms where you could kneel and a small light just outside would light up to let others know that you were there, and in the center was a slightly larger compartment where the priest would sit and open a small grid window between the boxes on either side, to hear your confessions that would be atoned by reciting the number of prescribed set prayers once you were back in the sanctuary.

   Then, as if a cold artic wind had descended from nowhere, a chill ran up his spine as his eyes came across the small wooden door next to the confessional at the right of the alter and just behind the pulpit.  This was the door, which lead to the most harrowed of places in Richie youth.  Behind this door were the private chambers that few would enter.  It was where the priest would ready himself and the alter boys for each service.  It was also where they would spend much of the time they were here outside of the actual mass.  A shaking hand ran across his face as he remembered that this was also the place where Father O'Malley would take them into the small sitting room, and convince them that they were serving the Lord and each other, by allowing him to have his way with them.  In the small cubical size room with nothing more than two arm chairs, a small table, and some discarded relics from the church's past, the elder man would defile and destroy the little boy that was inside of each of his victims until they could not even consider the thought of resisting and would eventually give in to his crude advances over and over again.  It was in this room, that Richie learned to hide within himself.

   For several minutes, he allowed these bewildered thoughts to consume him as all the pain, sorrow and shame from those many afternoon or torment at Father O'Malley's hand festered inside his soul.  His hand shook ever the more feverishly as his hand brushed across his sweating forehead.  He tried desperately not to allow the memories to consume him, but by this point, it was already too late, and they began to burn a hole into his very soul.  Tears began to trickle down his face and Richie leaned forward onto the pew before him weeping while all the while whispering a forgiving prayer to his God in heaven.

   The prayer and crying had gone on for a while in the silent and emptied church, and Richie was so engrossed in his own thoughts, that he did not hear the doors open or the distinct double set of footsteps make their way towards him.  He simply kept his head down, and continued to pray in a soft tone.

   The utter hushed vale over the room was torn when the footsteps stopped and a hand was felt on his left shoulder with a soft voice echoing through the chambers.  "Uncle Richie?"

   With a start, Richie raised his head to see a very worried set of teenagers looking down on him.  JJ and Meg Pryor had figured out where to look and found their outcast of an uncle.

   "JJ, Meg," Richie wiped away a few stray tears quickly.  "What are you doing here?  Is everything okay?  How did you find me?" His questions traveled through the stiff air.

   "Dad actually told us where you might be," JJ spoke first with a low voice.  "We called the hotel, and they said you had already checked out."

    "Yeah," Richie looked away.  "I spent what was left of my money on a bus ticket."

   "Where are you going to spend the night?" Meg asked with concern.

   "Well," Richie forced a small smile.  "I had thought of the bus station, but after what I saw it in broad daylight this afternoon, I decided that I would be much safer if I came here for the evening."

   "You don't have to stay here," JJ added as his hands gave way to welcoming gestures from inside his jacket pockets.  "You could always come and stay the night at our house."

   "That's nice Jackie," Richie's smile was real this time.  "But I don't think it would be a very good idea.  It would be too hard on your father, so it's best to just stay out of his way until I can get home tomorrow."

   "But Dad said we could invite you," Meg spoke up quickly.  "He wants you to come home with us."

   Richie eyed his niece carefully taking note of her words.  "Did he send you two here to get me?"

   "Well," JJ shuffled his feet.  "Not in so many words, but he did say you were welcome to come back with us."

   Turning his head away to stare down at his hands, Richie's eyes seemed to glaze over again.  "If Jack had really wanted me to come back to his house, then he would have showed up on his own.  Your father has never been shy with saying what he thinks.  At least not with me."

   "Please Uncle Richie," JJ slipped into the pew next to him.  "We want you to be there, and isn't that enough for now?"

   "I wish it were, Jackie," Richie sighed.  "I just can't risk the possibility of having to deal with another run in with your father right now.  I still care too much to see that hatred in his eyes towards me."

   "He doesn't hate you," Meg insisted taking a place on the pew in front of them and turning to speak.   "He just doesn't know how to react to everything that has happen."

   Her word's sparked his attention and Richie looked up at her.

   "I told them," Meg said sheepishly.  "I told them what you told me about your wife and Robby."

   "You should have told us earlier," JJ added.  "It might have made a difference in how Dad reacted in seeing you again."

   "That's why I didn't, Jackie," Richie replied with a small huff.  "What ever happened, I wanted it to be honest between your father and me, and I didn't want him accepting me out of pity our some type of guilt.  I wanted Jack to see that his brother was returning to him, and not some shattered man who needed his comfort and understanding again."

   "Okay," JJ looked away with anguish.  "Then why didn't you at least tell me?"

   "Because of that look that is on your face right now," Richie reached up and turned his nephews face back towards him.  "Because I didn't want you to have that same hurt stare in your eyes that you do right now.  Not just the pity, Jackie, but the desire of wanting to do something when you know there is nothing that could be done."

   Richie released his chin, and this time looked away him self.  "It's the reason I couldn't say goodbye to your face like I promised.  I couldn't say goodbye to that face, knowing that I may never see it again.  I couldn't see that same hurt look in my son's eyes again."

   Meg gave JJ a questionable glance.  She then turned to her uncle again.  "Your son's face?"

   "Robby," Richie said with great grief.  "I told you in the note JJ," he looked up.  "Robby reminded me allot of you.  I don't understand how it happened since Jack and I don't look a whole lot alike, but some how; Robby was born looking a lot like a younger version of his cousin.  He had the same complexion and hair color, and most of the time had his own identity, but when he was upset, anguished or sad, then I could swear he was the identical of you."  He placed a warm hand on the side of JJ's cheek.  "I had almost forgotten about it until the other night in the car.  When we were talking and you handed me that medal.  I saw Robby's face all over again.  I made the promise because I did not want that hurt look to return.  I wanted to see my Robby smile again."

   Richie took a very deep breath rubbing his hand on JJ's neck.  "And I'm seeing my son's face right now, Jackie.  The very last face I saw when he died."

   Meg wrapped her hands around his free hand that was resting on the back of her pew as he continued.  "I blacked out for a few minutes just after the accident, but when I woke up, I looked to my right and saw that Rosie was already gone.  Her head was imbedded into her side window where the truck had hit, and her seat was about two feet closer to me than when I had blacked out.  There was twisted metal and glass everywhere, and I could swear that it was all covered with a heavy thick red blood.  But it didn't matter, because I knew that my Rosie was already gone."

   At this point, all three of them had tears running down their faces as the two younger Pryor's continued to listen.  "I had forgotten for a moment that Robby was even in the car until I heard his frail voice call out to me.  He was being crushed between the front and rear seats, and his body had been pushed up over the back of the front seat where his upper torso was slumped just over my shoulder.  With a struggle, and the realization of the sharp pain from my broken back hitting me all at once at first, I fought the urge to black out again, and forced myself enough to turn my head and face him."

   Richie allowed his head to slump forward and rested on JJ's chest.  "His face was about six inches from my own, and he had that hurt and pained filled face that I had only seen few time before since he was a baby.  He was crying and gasping for what little air his damaged lungs were allowing him to receive."

   The engrossing details made for Meg to close her eyes hoping to escape the images her uncle was painting, but the darkness of her eye lids only made the picture all the much clearer in her minds eye.  JJ too closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his sobbing uncle.

   "He was looking directly at me," Richie continued.  "His eyes were pleading for me to help him.  I could tell he was in great pain, but there was nothing I could do but wait for help to arrive and remove us from that death trap.  The only thing out side of the great hopelessness and pain I could feel at that point, was the blistering rain that was streaming into the car through the shattered placed where glass and metal were only a few seconds earlier."

   Pulling away slightly, Richie looked deeply into JJ's eyes as a stare of being in another place and time took over his face, and both JJ and Meg watched as he relived that moment.

   "I reached up and forced my hand to touch his cheek," Richie told them with haunted eyes repeating the gesture.  "I instructed him not to move, but he tried anyway.  Each breath brought him more pain and less air to fill his lungs.  He was being drowned in his own blood.  He must have known the end was near, because he tried to smile and said he loved me," Richie's voice cracked.  "I think he already knew his mother was gone, because he didn't seem to want to look over at her.  I am assuming he discovered she was dead while I was still out."

   Richie ran his hand through JJ's hair.  "I told him that I loved him too, and I begged him to please hold on until help arrived.  And I think he really tried, because we were there for what must have been well over a half hour before anyone even tried to get us out, but the car was so mangled, that it was another several minutes if not an hour before they could even move enough of the wreckage to pry me from the drivers seat.  All the while they worked frantically trying to get us out, all I could do was stare into my sons weakening face.  He got whiter with each passing moment, and even his hand that was shaking from where it was pinned behind his head seemed to loose its will to move anymore and he got deathly still."

   By this point, Meg was in a full crying state, and JJ tried to keep him composure, never once loosing his haunted uncle's gaze.  He tried to show as little sorrow as he could, but he could not hold back the grief and tears that covered his face.

   "We tried our best to talk about useless things for a while," Richie continued.  "We talked about how to fix the loose chain on his new bike, and his last math test that he had aced, again, but most of all we looked at each other and the fear and pain in each other's faces, while his voice got softer and softer.  After the first few sentences, he kept repeating how tired he was becoming, and I too wanted nothing more than to just close my eyes until it was all over, but I kept telling him not to fall asleep.  Somehow I knew that if he drifted off, he would not be returning to me."

   Richie licked his lips that were dry in spite of the large amount of tears that ran down his face.  "He kept saying how tired he was over and over again," Richie's own tired voice continued.  "My instructions to stay awake soon became firm demands and then request which lead only too very heart felt pleads.  I knew in my heart of hearts that I was loosing my son and looking into his youthful eyes for the last time.  Then he could hold them open no longer and drifted off into a solid sleep."

   The weeping was becoming heavy sobs from Meg as he finished.  "I knew a few seconds later that my son was gone because even with the rain and all the noise around us, I had been able to focus solely on the raspy sounds of his breathing and I couldn't hear them anymore.  My suspicions were then confirmed when I saw a small trickle of blood released from the side of his mouth.  My son drowned on his own blood as I watched him die," Richie grew silent for a minute then he concluded his story.  "I struggled to keep my hand raised to his face until the warmth of his body was completely gone, and in that cold rain, it didn't take long.  Once my family was completely gone, I didn't care any longer, and I allowed myself to fall into the void of the blackness and didn't wake up until days later when I cursed the doctors for not letting me die with my wife and son."

   JJ did not say a word as his uncle leaned in grasping his head with both hands and placed a firm kiss on his nephew's forehead.  "I love you Robby," Richie said low with his lips pressed to JJ's head.  "I will love and miss you forever."

   JJ pulled his uncle into a full bear hug, and the two men wept openly into each other arms as Meg leaned across the pew to join the hug.  "We love you Uncle Richie," she said through heavy sobs.

   "I love you too sweaty. You too Jackie," Richie returned as the crying continued.

   JJ didn't say a word, because he no longer could speak.  All he could do was hold on, all the tighter, to the two of them.

   After a few long minutes as they began to pull apart, they noticed as someone was standing a few feet away behind JJ with his hands in his coat pocket.  They all looked up and were surprised to see Jack Pryor standing there with tear slowly streaming from his own eyes.

   "Jack," Richie questioned trying to clear his view through the tears and wiping them away.

   Jack looked long and hard at his younger brother until he was able to speak again,  "You should have told me, Richie" he spoke the simple words.  "You should have told me."

   Helen Pryor waited patiently at the kitchen table praying that Jack and the kids would be home soon, or at least one of them or Richie would call to give her some news about what was happening.  She was so deep in her own thoughts that she nearly jumped out of her sink when she heard a hearty knock at the back door.  Quickly she rose up and rushed to open the barrier.  Much to her dismay, all she found was a giddy Roxanne who stood with a large grin.

   "Oh Roxanne," Helen forced a polite smile.  "I wasn't expecting you."

   "I know, but I couldn't wait another second and I had to rush over and thank you," Roxanne dived into a hug with the older woman.  "My Mom has decided not to send me to Boston after all, and I have you to thank."

   "Roxanne," Helen happily returned the embrace.  "It wasn't all that hard.  Your mother and I had a talk over lunch and we came to an understanding."

   "I know," Roxanne pulled away as her head bobbed up and down with joy.  "All I want to know is how you did.  What did you say to change her mind?"

   Placing a snide grin on her own face, Helen looked across the bridge of her nose at the younger woman.  "I just reminded your mother that she may not have been such an angel in her earlier days either, and apparently she wasn't, and that helped to make the transition all the easier."

   "Wow," Roxanne exclaimed.  "If I had known it was that easy, I would have dragged out the old photo albums."

   "I wouldn't do that," Helen turned and walked back to the table.  "Before she agreed, I almost lost her to the possibilities that you too would end up with a looser of a husband and eventually have to hold down two jobs to support your children who would be born much too early in life for you to have a fair chance."

   "Then I don't understand," Roxanne closed the door and sat next to her at the table.  How did you get her to agree?"

   Helen looked deeply into her young eyes.  "I took responsibility for you Roxanne.  On the mornings that your mother has to work, I told her that I would have you stop by here and I would approve of your daily dress and other attires such as makeup and hem lines."

   "You did that for me?" Roxanne gave a sweet smile.

   "I did for both you and Meg," Helen patted her hand.  "I remember how important it was to have a best friend who I was close to as the two of you are in high school. I know I would have been devastated if she had to move away, so I did it as much for Meg as I did for you."

   "Thank you Mrs. Pryor," Roxanne leaned in for another hug.  "I owe you so much for this."

   "And I'll remember that the first morning you give me an argument about what you are wearing," Helen grinned back.

   After they were done hugging, Helen asked, "Would you like to stay for dinner?  Meg and the boys should be back any minute now."

   "Sure," She shrugged.  "Can I help with anything?"

   "Yes," Helen got up and walked to the stove.  "You could go into the dinning room and tell Patty she can stop pealing the potatoes."

   "Okay," Roxanne began the walk.  "But how will I know if she already has enough?"

   A large grin came across Helen face as she began to pull apart the thawed pork chops.  "She's been pealing for the last forty five minutes," she smirked.  "If we don't have enough by now, we never will."

     The church had become completely silent again as JJ and Meg excused them selves and walked to a pew several rows back.  They watched as Jack Pryor slid into the seat next to his brother and they both sat silent staring straight ahead.  The air was hanging thick between the two brothers while each waited for the other to speak first.  It was several minutes later when Richie chose to break the silence first.

   "I didn't mean to be such a bother, Jack," he said almost under his breath.  "I didn't know you would come looking for me."

   "No, but you were hoping I would," Jack sighed back.  "I've known you too long Richie.  I know enough that it's not always what you are saying that counts, but what you are not saying that means more sometimes."

   Richie had to think for a few seconds. "I guess some old habits never die," the younger Pryor brother forced a smile for in agreement.  "Even after all these years I am still crying for attention even when I am not aware of it."

   "We have always been a messed up pair," Jack shook his head with a stale chuckle.  "Always looking for that little amount of interest Pop would show us when Ted wasn't around monopolizing his time.  Now that he's gone, we are still falling back on those old habits, only now with each other."

   It was a long moment before the silence was broken again.  "I don't think Pop ever saw it," Richie finally added with a hush sigh.  "Pop never thought he was treating any of his sons any different than the other.  He just naturally gravitated to the one who most pleased him and didn't seem a disappointment.  It was a natural impulse that he never gave a second thought to.  He just didn't see it."

   Jack allowed his head to lower for a moment as he mumbled, "there was allot that Pop never notice about us."

   "I wonder sometimes," Richie let out a soft breath knowing to what his brother was referring.  "I wonder if we had told him what O'Malley was doing to us when it happen, would he have believed us?  Would he have stopped him?"

   "I stopped thinking about the possible out comes a long time ago," Jack shook his head.  "The reality of the truth was hard enough without the disappointment of the possible."

   It took a while to notice, but when he did Richie followed Jack line of sight as he viewed the small door just off from the Alter which lead to the private chambers.  He too watched the door for a moment before he spoke again.  "You still remember it all clearly too, don't you?"

   "Helen doesn't understand why I don't come to church all that often," Jack said with heavy concentration.  "I've never been able to tell her that it is because of that door."  He took a deep breath.  "Every time I come here, I have to look at that door and remember what happened behind it.  I have been able to block out the memories everywhere else in my life, but I can not do it while I have to look at that door."

   "The strange thing is that I feel better when I see that door," Richie said softly.  "As long as I know I am on this side of the door, I know that I am still safe.  It's like keeping an eye on the only thing that has ever threaten me in my life, and as long as I can see what it is doing, then I know it can't hurt me."

   "When I came here for Midnight mass last Christmas, I was able to talk Helen into sitting way in the back with an obstructed view of the alter, and for the first time I was able to sit in this building for a whole service and not think about what happen behind that door," Jack told his little brother.  "It was like being a whole a person again."

   "You are a whole person, Jack," Richie turned slightly towards him.

   "I don't know," Jack shook his head again.  "With all these memories coming back like this, I can remember the feeling I always felt growing up, as if something was taken away from me that can never be returned."  

   "You have a great life going for you with a wonderful wife and a group of great kids," Richie reminded him.  "Your business is doing well, and JJ is about to go off and play collage football.  It may not be the school of your choice, but it is still your dream for him, Jack."

   "I know, Richie," Jack nodded.  "Believe me.  I know how great I have it when I look at how Pete and Ted are still struggling to keep it all together, but this is the one place where I don't feel complete.  I can't explain it, but I feel," he shrugged his shoulders.  "I don't know."

   "Violated," Richie finished his thought for him.  "You feel violated for what O'Malley did to you over and over again right behind what should be the holiest of places for you and your family, and you resent what he has done to your chance of feeling peace in the house of the God."

   Jack looked into his eyes for a moment.  It was like his brother was reading his very soul and showing it to him for the first time.  He sat dumbfounded for a long while until Richie reached up and placed his hand on his shoulder.  "I know how it feels, Jack," he gave a small understanding smile.  "I know because I have already been through it and come out the other side.  That was why I had to stop O'Malley when he came back here.  I could not let him destroy those little boys like he did us.  It may have cost me everything I ever loved, but I had to keep them from loosing their souls like I had."

   "If you had told me these thing when it happen," Jack looked away.  "I might have been able to understand.  I might have tried to help you with Mom and Pop."

   "Pop knew everything that happened to the two of us," Richie said back with a great welt of grief.  "But he made his choices, and nothing you said would have changed that.  Maybe if Ted had been one of O'Malley's sins, then maybe Pop would have understood or tried to help me stop that sick old man, but you and I were the ones always trying to find a way to get his attention, and I guess he thought this was just another way for me to do so."

   Jack took a large lung full of air as he sat back deeper into the pew.  He raised his head to the ceiling.  "Is that why you didn't tell us about Rose and Robby?" He asked.  "Because you thought I would think you were just trying to get my attention?"

   "I didn't tell you," Richie started.  "Because I didn't want to just walk in and say hey here is your long lost brother, and by the way, my wife and son both died right in front of me."  He took a long pause before he continued.  "I didn't want you to pity me, Jack.  I wanted to give us a little time to know each other again before I sprang something like that on you."

   "I don't pity you, Richie," Jack said with a bit of a crack in his voice.  "I am mad as heck at you right now, but I don't pity you."

   "I think I can understand that, Jack," Richie nodded.  "But I think we can also work through it if we try."

   Jack stood up and paced for a few seconds.  "How could you do this Richie?"  He almost growled.  "How could you have shut yourself so far out of my life that you think I would not want to try and help you through something like this.  I mean for God's sake, you almost died and lost your entire family and you never even considered to call me and let me know you were even still alive."

   "Jack," Richie pushed himself to his feet.

   "When," Jack had to look away as his emotions built up.  "When the doctors told us that Will had contracted Polio, I was shattered, and the very first person I thought of that night was you."

   Richie remained in a silent shock just watching as Jack relived the events in his mind as he had done his own earlier.

   "I prayed for the first time in all those years that God would send you back home to help me deal with it," Jack continued brushing back his hair.  "Helen and I held to the belief that he would live and be normal again, but inside I knew my son would never be a normal little boy again, and my gut was calling for the only other person besides me who truly understood what that would mean, but you never came back."

   "If," Richie managed to croak out.  "If you had called me, I would have been here in a heart beat, Jack.  I never forgot what we meant to each other.  What we were for each other.  If I had known, I would have come home."

   "Then why would you do that same thing to me?" Jack grabbed his jacket.  "You almost died, Richie!" Jack screamed.  "I don't give a darn about what had gone on between us in the past, when my brother almost dies and is fighting for his own life and not to mention the grief of his lost, I have the right to know.  I have the right to be there with you and if for nothing else, to hold your hand and pray you through this just like I did all those times when we were kids."

   He pounded his fist once on his chest.  "It was what we always did for each other, and we let this stupid secret from the past destroy us again."

   Richie's chest was raising and falling as he watched the grief engulf his brother and soul supporter when they were boys.  "I'm sorry, Jack."

   "Damn you, Richie," Jack pointed his finger at him.  "We can be fighting and never have a civil word between us for as long as we both live, but don't you for one moment forget that you are my little brother, and what ever has or will happen between us, I love you, and there is no number of miles or years between us that will change that.  We belong to each other as much now as we did when we were kids."

   "Jackie," Richie stepped out of the pew.  "I didn't think."

   "I know you didn't think," Jack stopped short of shaking him.  "Sometimes I swear that you were worst than my kids."

   "I love you too, Jackie," Richie said a tears rolled down his face.  "I'm sorry.  I should have let you help me like I should have been there to help you. I needed you so badly, but I didn't think you would want me here."

   The two men met eyes for a long moment.  Then he could contain himself any longer, and Jack reached out pulling his sibling into a big bear hug as the tears rolled from his own eyes.  "I swear, Richie," he muttered.  You were a pain in my back side when we were kids, and you still are today."

   Richie closed his eyes and returned the hug as the two men wept into each other's arms.  "I thought," he forced out the raspy words.  "I thought when I woke up in the hospital that day, that I had lost any chance of ever having a family again.  I thought you were lost too, Jack."

   Pulling him even closer, if that were at all possible, Jack placed his lips close to his brother's ear.  "You thought wrong, Richie.  You thought wrong."

   After a few long moments, JJ and Meg made their way back to the older Pryor's and joyfully joined into the group hugs.  What ever had happen before between them, the two brothers had been able to get pass their emotions and decided that they would let life go on, and regardless of what ever was to come, they would forever be the brothers they once were, and the two would no longer ever forget the other still lived.  There were still the pangs of betrayal and lost that would always be between them, but they also knew that their bonds were stronger than their differences.  Neither could ever say that he would be able to live with out the other ever again.

   "What now?"  JJ asked after they had all dried their eyes.

   Jack put one arm around Richie's shoulder, and the other around Meg's waist.  "He go home and eat supper, JJ," he smiled widely.  "I think it's time for that long awaited welcome dinner for my brother."

   JJ stepped to his Uncles opposite side wrapping his right arm around his back as Richie did the same to him with his left.  "I can't think of any better plans."

   Arm in arm, the four of them walked down the large center aisle of the church and into a new future with renew hopes and possibilities.

   A short while later, the Pryor household was again a flutter of conversations and laughter around the supper table as Richie, Pete and Roxanne had been given a place at the meal along with Jack and his family.  They each shared their happy moments their long lost uncle regaled them of adventures of the far off land known as Lynchburg Virginia.  That night the Pryor children learn of there young cousin and his mother who had hoped to one day meet them, and the uncle learned of all the latest going on at East Catholic and the names of each dancer on the American Bandstand as well as every track record JJ had ever broken and why Thrill doesn't like broccoli and that Patty could recite each and every one of the ten highest mounting peaks in the world, alphabetically.  The conversations went on for well over an hour as they enjoyed the meal of pork chops and four different types of potatoes.

   After the meal was done, each of the Pryor children made their way into the living room as Richie settled onto the make shift bed Helen prepared for him on the sofa, sitting up to watch the television.  He wore his freshly pressed pajamas and lowered himself slowly onto the seat. When he was the last in line, Will came up to him with a large piece of construction paper with a crude drawing of the entire family.

   "I made this for you," Will gave a wide smile.

   "Yeah, when he was suppose to be doing his homework," Patty added from over his shoulder to which he stuck his tongue out at her.

   "Is this your family?" Richie took the picture in multi colored crayons while trying to mask his pain from wearing the braces all day.

   "Yeah," Will smiled back.  He pointed out a stick like figure at the end of a row of six other figures.  "This one is you," he told his uncle.  "I wanted you to keep it so you would know that you are part of our family now."

   "Thank you, Will," Richie hugged his nephew.  "This means allot to me."

   When they had pulled apart, Will looked down and saw that one of the braces holding Richie's knee was giving him problems.  With out thinking, the young boy reached down and tapped a spot on the side of the brace, which caused it to give way instantly relieving the pressure against his kneecap.

   Richie gave a sigh of relief.  "Wow, thank you Will," he said with great sense of ease.  "That feels so much better."

   "I know," Will shrug.  "It happens to me all the time.  I'll show you how to do it in the morning."

   "I'll hold you to it," Richie grinned widely.  "You're a special little guy."

   JJ came up and picked his little brother up over his shoulder as Will giggled with delight.  "That's why he's our Thrill," he commented leaning in to hug his uncle goodnight.  "We'll see you in the morning."

   "I'll be here," Richie smiled as his nephews left the room.

   Meg made her way back after Patty and Roxanne had left the room and ran up the steps.  She rushed over and gave him a quick hug.  "I'm glad you decided to stay with us a few days."

   "Me too, Meg," Richie returned.

   After the kids were gone, Helen walked through the room.  "I better go up and make sure Will settles down after all the excitement.  Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable in one of the boy's bed, Richie?"

   "Thank you Helen," Richie nodded sweetly.  "But I think it would be best for me not to tangle with those steps any more than I have too.  I'll be fine right here."

   "Okay," she smiled one last time.  "I'll see you in the morning."

   "Good night, Helen," Richie returned.  "And thank you for everything."

   Jack and Pete were the next to walk into the room.  They were each holding a drink and Jack handed Richie a Pepsi.  "I heard somewhere that you don't drink the hard stuff anymore, so this should do."

   "Thanks," Richie took the bottle.  "This will be fine."

   "Jack and I were going to watch the rest of the game," Pete said taking a seat on the sofa to his right.  "You want to watch with us?"

   Richie looked over at Jack who took his place in his armchair on the opposite side and then back at Pete.  "Sure," he grinned from ear to ear.  "I would really like that."

   "Good," Jack grunted popping his bottle cover.

   "Oh great," Pete commented looking at the TV.  "This is the wrong channel."

   "Then get up and change it, Pete," Jack said with a groan.

   "Why me?" Pete protested.

   Jack and Richie glanced over at each other quickly and then back at Pete and said at the same time, "Because you're the youngest."

   Pete rose with a great mocked disgusted and proceeded toward the television.  Richie turned back to Jack with a big smile.  "Just like old times."

   Raising his drink, Jack gave a sly smile.  "Welcome home little brother.  Welcome home."

**The End.**

**Authors Notes:  **Well here it is gang.  The last chapter of the Pryor brothers' reunion.  I really hope you have all enjoyed the story and will drop me a note to confirm that.  I only hope that the solution was not too simplistic, but it was important to me and the story that the two brothers be reunited.  Please let me know if you agree.

To: sevhevcracksmeup:  Thank you for your review and kind words.  I discovered as I wrote this story and it took on a life of it own, that Meg needed to be as important to the plot as Jack, JJ and Helen, so I thank you for agreeing that it worked.  By now you know what has happen to Roxanne and she is not going away.  I'm sure that is a great relief to you. -_o  But more importantly, Jack has come around, and the Pryor brothers are again a complete family.

To Rebel Goddess:  Thank you for your reviews and continued support.  I hope my JJ to Robbie connection made sense and that it worked.  I also hope you liked Jack's reaction.

To Banana Belle:  Thanks for your review and support.  Let me know how you thought this chapter went.

To Sarah:  Again thank you for your reviews and support.  I hope my story was pleasing to you and everyone who read it.

Well that's it for now gang.  I hope to have a new Smallville story out by the end of the year and maybe something original over at Fan Press, so please keep your eyes open and I look forward to hearing from you again.  Hey maybe there is even another Pryor family story in my little brain somewhere.

Best Wishes and God Bless

Phaze


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